


How the Dark Became Brilliant

by JumpingShinyFrogs



Category: Monster Hunter (Video Games)
Genre: Attempt at a daily fic, Gen, Might not actually be daily but I will try, Nature, No Romance, Some events are decided by dice rolls, Warnings May Change, possible feels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2019-10-14 18:48:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 87
Words: 119,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17513990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JumpingShinyFrogs/pseuds/JumpingShinyFrogs
Summary: Even monsters have to be born, and an Alatreon is no exception.





	1. Pip

A soft chirp rose into the damp air above the ravine. Shafts of sunlight pierced the morning mist, illuminating the rocky hollow in which a single egg rested. A slit had opened in the egg’s leathery surface, and a little snout poked its way into the new and wondrous world, egg tooth gleaming. Tiny lungs expanded for the first time, and wide, curious eyes blinked at the gentle light.

To the hatchling, it was as though she had woken up from a long, peaceful slumber. Still drowsy, she chirped again. The world was new to her, but she knew, instinctively, that she should not be alone. The hatchling squirmed, attacking her prison with the egg tooth, flexing muscles for the very first time. The shell split further, and a pair of black forelimbs armed with sharp little claws emerged, followed by a pair of small, crinkled wings. All the while the hatchling called out, piercing the silent mist with her squeaks.

At last, the neonate pulled herself from the egg, tumbling forward as her hindlimbs and tail slipped free. Soaked in her own fluids, the chill of the cold dawn penetrated her soft scales easily, and she shivered. Once again, she called out into the fog, her cries growing more and more frequent. Her short, stubby legs, new as they were, could not support her, and she fell to the ground. Dead leaves, tiny stones, and dust clung to her wet scales as her tiny claws scrambled at the rough ground. Her head felt too heavy for her to pick herself up, weighed down as it was by the stubs that would one day become majestic horns.

She should not be alone at the moment of her awakening, she knew. A tender tongue should have cleaned her off, great black wings should have shielded her from the cold, and a powerful heart should have soothed her back to sleep.

Where was Mother?

The little hatchling tucked her tail closer to herself and folded her wings. Desperate squeaks and chirps were swallowed up by the mist. The small one cried out for Mother all through the morning, as the mist was burned away and the bright sun stung at her young eyes. Even as the distant roars of other, greater beasts echoed through the ravine, Small One kept calling. Her scales dried out and soaked up the sunlight, warming her body, and still Small One called. When the sun began to rest for the day, and the starry sky came out, Small One called.

But Mother never came.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An attempt by me at writing a daily fic, to get myself used to the idea of just writing even when I’d rather daydream about the things I’d like to write. My goal is to release one chapter a day (or as close as I can get to that) until the story is over. This means that some chapters may be extremely short (like this one) and others might be longer.
> 
> This story is largely unplanned (I have a beginning and an ending in mind, and maybe three important milestones to hit in between), so to give myself a little bit of extra inspiration, parts of this story are going to be determined by a roll of the dice. If a situation comes up where Small One would need a certain quality to succeed, I’ll roll a dice on it to see what happens. Should make things interesting, hopefully. I’ll put the dice rolls and make note of any stat changes in the notes after each chapter (this one didn’t have any).
> 
> If you’ve got anything to say about the story, good or bad, drop it in the comments. I’m always willing to listen to feedback!


	2. Flyby

By next sunrise, Small One’s throat was too raw to call. The dark, cold nest provided neither warmth nor love, and sleep came in fits and starts. The remaining yolk in her belly kept her hunger at bay, but her tongue felt thick and fuzzy. Small One licked at the damp stone floor in an attempt to slake her thirst, but the thin layer of moisture only made her crave the real thing more. Soft whimpers escaped from between her milky teeth, and she cautiously peered over the edge of the hollow into the ravine below.

A thin, fast-moving stream wound its way between the rugged walls of the ravine, and Small One knew at once that she would have to find a way to reach it. Mother could have carried her, but Mother had forgotten her. Small One cast her gaze about the nest’s edge, searching for a way down. The hollow had been chosen with flying creatures in mind, with only the most sure-footed of land dwellers able to climb up the rough terrain to find it. Small One’s wings were still too new and too weak to carry her safely down.

As Small One pondered the problem facing her, she heard a steady, rhythmic noise, like the flapping of great wings. She chirped in excitement. Mother had found her at last! She craned her neck upwards as a shadow passed overhead. Finally, Mother would nuzzle her, and take her to the river to drink.

Yet the passing shadow was all wrong. It was too small, and had too few limbs to be Mother. Its scales were a vibrant red, tipped with black, and its broad wings boasted vivid patterns. It held a pair of wicked talons beneath its body, and its tail ended in a spiked club. Sharp eyes scanned the ravine with a predator’s fervor, and Small One saw hunger in its gaze.

This was not Mother.

With a muffled squeak, Small One drew herself back into the shadows of the hollow, knowing that if the beast spotted her, it would kill her. Her black scales melted into the darkness within the nest, and she held herself stiller than she had thought possible. Hardly daring to breathe for fear the motion might catch the predator’s eye, Small One watched as the shadow flew lazy, sweeping circles above the ravine. To Small One, it felt as though an eternity passed in that moment, but eventually the winged beast flew off with the sun at its back, leaving Small One alone with the whispering wind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does Small One avoid the passing monster’s attention? (Luck = 10)  
> Small One rolls a 16 (required 10). Success.
> 
> As a side note, I need to stop writing these at midnight. They don’t make a good cure for insomnia.


	3. Descent

The winged shadow was gone, but now Small One no longer felt safe in the nest. The cliffside hollow would be little more than a tomb for her if she stayed any longer. She examined the edge of the nest, searching for any small divots or footholds she could use to climb down. Her sharp eyes spotted several rocks jutting out from the cliff wall, narrow and pointed, just barely big enough for her small claws to grasp.

Her muscles were still new and frail, and she had not yet had the chance to develop her balance and coordination. Climbing down would be almost impossible, but Small One’s dry mouth spurred her forward. Steeling herself, she took a leap of faith to the closest foothold. Her chest impacted with the rock and her breath was forced from her lungs, her hindlimbs dangling above the open air. Shards of stone crumbled and fell away as her claws scrambled to find purchase, but Small One kept her grip. Slowly, carefully, she hauled herself onto the platform, taking fast, shallow breaths. After a moment of rest, she reached down and leapt to the next rock, just barely within her grasp. 

Glancing down at how far she still had to go, Small One tightened her grip on the rock, and leaned down to try and jump to a small ledge below. As she leapt, she felt her little wings unfurl uselessly to try and catch the air. She landed hard on the ledge, yelping as the impact sent jolts through her legs. Though it was slow and laborious, with each leap making Small One’s heart race, she carefully made her way from foothold to foothold, gaining confidence as she went. By the time the sun was at the peak of its journey, Small One had almost made it to the bottom of the cliff.

She glanced up, and found she could just barely see the hollow she had come from. Now that she was down on the ground, she doubted she’d ever get back up to it. Mother would never find her now, because Mother would not know where to look.

There was one last jump to make before Small One could slake her thirst, but she could not see any foothold to aim for between the outcropping she stood on and the ground. She flexed her weak wings and coiled her muscles, and leapt from the outcropping. Her wings caught a tiny breath of air, but it was not enough to soften her fall. She landed roughly on the dusty ground, tiny rocks digging into the scales on her belly, her legs weak and tired from her long climb.

Yet the sound of the rushing river caught her attention, and as soon as she caught her breath she scrambled to her feet and rushed to the banks. The water was cool and clear, and Small One spotted swimming creatures darting between rocks in the shallows. The water smelled fresh, and Small One plunged her snout into the flow, the cold rushing over her nose, her thirst quenched at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does Small One successfully climb down the cliff without falling? (Finesse = 5)  
> Small One rolls a 19 (required 15). Success.  
> Finesse increased to 6.
> 
> Is the water safe to drink? (Luck = 10)  
> Small One rolls a 15 (required 10). Success.
> 
> RNGesus seems to like Small One: she has yet to fail a roll.


	4. Prey

The swimming creatures caught Small One’s eyes as she drank. The way they grouped together and moved as one was hypnotic, and Small One found herself entranced. Her claws flexed involuntarily as they darted between rocks, nibbling on the slimy green patches on the riverbed. When Small One drew her dripping snout from the water, she narrowed her eyes at the swimming creatures. There were small ones and big ones. The smallest were smaller than she was, and their movements triggered a deep and primal urge within her.

A low growl rolled from her throat as she raised a claw and swiped it at the closest swimming thing. The group split off and dashed away, and Small One’s talons were left wet and empty. Within seconds, the creatures had reformed into their group. Small One snarled at them, and slashed the water again. Once again, she was left to flex her wet, empty claw.

Her mind began working. The swimming things rushed away from her in fear whenever she struck. She could try and scare a swimming thing towards her jaws, or towards the bank of the river. She stared at the water. Would it be safe for her to stand in it? Mother could have told her. Tentatively, Small One pressed a foot into the water, squeaking as the cold sent a shiver down her spine. The stone of the riverbed was slick, and the water tugged at Small One’s leg.

Since she did not immediately fall over dead, Small One assumed it was safe to stand in the river, and carefully lowered her other foreleg into the water. The swimming things parted and reformed as she slid her hind limbs into the river, and she followed them with her eyes. Though the cold sapped at her, Small One couldn’t help but find it refreshing when the water flowed over her shoulders and across her chest. She lifted a leg to take a step towards the swimming creatures, but dragging her leg through the water proved more difficult than she had thought.

As she pondered how to move, she noticed the swimming things approaching her, wary but not fearful of her legs in the water. Small One’s eyes lit up. Remaining perfectly still, she waited until a small creature was in just the right spot. As soon as it was in position, Small One uncoiled her legs, lunging forward and scattering the swimming things. At the same time, she lashed her tail and beat her wings, herding them forward, and lowered her muzzle to snap at the closest ones. Suddenly, a trio of them leapt from the water, catching Small One by surprise.

Two of them landed off to the side, out of Small One’s reach, but one of the swimming things landed on the river bank, flailing uselessly. A wicked leer split Small One’s snout, and she lumbered onto the bank and caught the helpless creature in her jaws. Its skin was cold and slimy, and Small One could feel it struggling against the power of her bite. In response, Small One tightened her grip, her sharp teeth piercing her prey’s scales and spilling its cold, metallic blood on her tongue. Soon, her prey abandoned its struggle, and Small One let it fall to the ground, dead.

Small One’s chest swelled with pride, and she pressed her foot upon her prey’s head, its glassy, lifeless eyes staring up from between her claws. Head held high, Small One gave a high, shrill shriek of victory, her cry rebounding off of the walls of the ravine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does Small One’s plan to catch the fish work? (Intelligence = 10)  
> Small One rolls a 20 (required 10). Critical Success!
> 
> RNGesus is absolutely showering Small One with love, seriously.


	5. Climb

Small One found, upon sinking her teeth into her prey’s flesh, that her struggle hadn’t been worth it. The meat was as cold and slimy as the creature was in life, and tough, pointy bones jabbed at the roof of her mouth. After one particular bite exploded and sent streams of greasy, foul-tasting liquid over her tongue, Small One gave up on trying to eat her catch, abandoning its ripped-open corpse for the scavengers.

She turned her gaze towards the top of the ravine walls. The blue sky beyond sang to her, but her wings were still too weak to lift her. She could see the faint green of unfamiliar territory just barely poking over the edge of the cliff. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that the green would be a safe place for her to learn and grow, abounding with prey that would hopefully taste better than the swimming things.

Small One had no intention of climbing back up the cliff, but she was at a loss for how to get up and reach the green. She glanced back at the rushing river. Maybe it knew how to get to up to the green? Small One chirped at it, but the water offered no answer save the babbling of its currents. The river was clearly going somewhere, and Small One thought perhaps following it might take her some place good.

On the other claw, the river had thus far offered her a much appreciated drink and some terrible prey. If she followed the river on its journey, it might only offer her more terrible prey. Instead, she decided she would walk in the opposite direction, going against the flow. 

Her mind made, Small One turned and proudly marched along the river. The floor of the ravine was uneven, forcing her to climb over or walk around rocks, and the sun beat down on Small One as she walked, her black wings soaking up the heat. The heat forced Small One to pause for water frequently, and her progress was slow. As she walked, the cries of other monsters echoed from above, though no more shadows passed overhead. Still Small One kept a wary gaze at the sky as she went.

The sun continued its journey through the sky, and the shadows in the ravine grew longer, granting Small One a much-needed reprieve from the heat. The river narrowed, and Small One noticed the walls of the ravine steadily growing lower. When the sun was low, Small One spotted a well-worn path leading up one of the slopes. Anxious to get out of the ravine and find someplace safe to sleep, Small One scrambled up the trail, chirping with excitement when she reached the top. 

A soft green carpet of grass broke through the rocky ground in patches, and Small One stared in wonder at the deep, dark forest before her. The tall trees clustered together, leaving only small spaces between them. The bright green crowning them promised shelter from the sun and protection from hungry eyes, and Small One drew upon the ancient knowledge within her. This place was safe, and it would have prey for her. Mother should not have left her, but she would prove she did not need Mother to live.

Small One dashed into the forest, wasting no time in finding a hollow in the roots of a tree. The sun was almost gone, but where the ravine had been cold and windy, the forest was warm and inviting, sheltering her from the wind’s bite. Satisfied with herself, Small One curled herself tightly and drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does Small One go upstream (1) or downstream (2)?  
> Small One rolls a 1. Upstream.
> 
> I had no stats to use for this one, it was essentially a coin flip. Also, I’ve noticed these are getting longer as I go on, so yay?


	6. Cold One

Wildlife began to chitter and sing, signaling the beginning of a new day. The first rays of morning sunshine managed to pierce the canopy and warm Small One’s nose, rousing her from slumber. She opened her mouth in a gaping yawn and stretched out her legs. Her ears pricked as she listened to the strange sounds around her. The forest was a lot more noisy and alive than the ravine, she realised. A gnawing in her belly spurred her to emerge from her hollow and search for prey.

It was only then she realised that she didn’t actually know what sort of prey to look for. The swimming prey turned out to taste bad. How would she know what prey would taste good if she had no one to teach her? The earthiness of the soil, the sweetness of tree sap, and a variety of musky scents all muddled together. Small One snorted. Which smells were prey and which were not prey?

Small One’s ear flicked as leaves rustled above her. A small feathered creature was eyeing her warily, its beak parting to give a warning cry. Small One snapped at it, and it flew off. That prey was too high up for her to catch, but she didn’t like the look of its feathers, anyway. She dug her snout into the leaf litter and turned it, hoping there would be prey within, but all she found were tiny wriggling things. Snatching up a brightly-coloured one turned out to be a mistake, and Small One spent the next few minutes scraping her tongue along a nearby tree to try and get rid of the taste. Why did all of the prey seem to taste bad?

Small One turned to head deeper into the forest, hoping that perhaps a better meal might be found there. The trees clumped closer together as she went, their leaves breaking the shafts of sunlight into dappled spots upon the forest floor. As Small One went deeper into the forest, she happened upon a tiny brook, just barely deep enough for her to lap at it and quench her thirst. With nowhere else to go, Small One followed the brook into the woods, weaving between trees and trampling shrubs. 

Wildlife screeched alarms and fled at the sight of her, often before Small One had even seen them. Though she kept her eyes open for something to hunt, Small One found she was frustratingly obvious to any nearby prey, with her loud gait and deep black colour. Eventually, the brook ran into a hole, leaving Small One without her guide. She shivered as she was suddenly plunged into darkness. Glancing up, she realised that a bank of clouds had moved to obscure the sun. Small One blinked as drops of water splashed at her snout. Water falling from the sky? Small One found she didn’t like the feeling of the sky water, and dashed forward to try and find a tree with leaves broad enough to cover her.

Hidden beneath the boughs of a particularly wide tree, Small One sniffed at the air in hopes of finding something to eat. The sky water carried its own scent, and it permeated the air and everything it touched. Small One snorted, but then she realised that a new smell was in the air. Harsh and metallic, like the taste of the swimming prey’s blood. Blood meant prey, probably. Small One glanced up at the clouds, willing them to stop throwing sky water at her, but the clouds ignored her. Hissing a little, she stood up to go and follow the smell of blood.

The smell was faint, muffled by the overwhelming smell of sky water, but Small One’s senses were sharp, and she tracked the smell through the trees as it grew stronger. The wind was beginning to pick up, and the gathered clouds above grew darker and darker. Eventually, Small One followed the smell into a break in the trees, where she spotted the source. A huge creature, easily ten times her size with saggy green skin,  lay dead, its side ripped open. The wind was howling around the clearing, and Small One was suddenly aware of a terrible chill in the air.

Still, there was prey, conveniently already dead for her. She rushed from the treeline to claim her find, but suddenly the wind intensified and forced her to the ground. Dark as it was, Small One still saw a massive shadow pass overhead, and she whimpered when a truly enormous beast descended from the sky and landed, one foot on the carcass as if to claim it.

The newcomer almost looked like her if she squinted. A long neck crowned with horns, four legs ending in deadly talons, and a set of massive wings that blotted out the sky. But where she had supple black scales, the newcomer was coated in a layer of tough grey skin. Through the wind and the sky water and the smell of the prey’s blood, Small One still managed to catch a whiff of the musky scent that indicated a male.

He growled, and the wind and cold emanating from him seemed to magnify. His steely gaze bore into Small One. Though his growls were hard for her to make sense of, the meaning was clear: this was his kill, and she was not to touch it. As if to illustrate the point, Cold One dipped his head and tore a huge chunk of meat from the carcass, swallowing it in one gulp. Blood dripped down his face as he glared at Small One. Small One lowered her head and flattened her body in submission. She had no doubt that Cold One could kill her with minimal effort.

Still, his kill was awfully large for just one to eat. Perhaps she could convince him to part with a few tiny bites? She was so small, he would not miss whatever she took. She tried standing up and stepping forward, but Cold One screeched, a horrible sound that set Small One’s ears as flat as they could go. He snapped his jaws in warning, and Small One knew then that she would have to seek food elsewhere. Cold One might not be so tolerant in the future. 

As Small One beat a hasty retreat back to the safety of the dense forest, she chanced a look back at Cold One. It was then that she realised something odd. The blood on his face wasn’t dripping from his mouth. Instead, it dripped from a large, deep gash on his face, long and uniform as if it had been inflicted by a single massive claw. Small One shuddered. She did not want to meet whatever could inflict such a wound on something so mighty as Cold One.

The sound of Cold One gorging himself was lost to the winds as Small One disappeared back into the depths of the darkened woodland.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does Cold One share his kill with Small One? (Luck = 10)  
> Cold One’s Disdain affects Small One’s roll (-3)  
> Small One rolls a 7 - 3 = 4 (required 10). Failure.
> 
> Long one today. I really got into the zone on this one, so I hope you enjoyed it!  
> As a side note, this is Small One’s first failed roll. She would have failed it even if Cold One wasn’t so reluctant to share, poor baby.


	7. Catch

The wind and sky water seemed to calm down the further Small One got from Cold One. The air grew warmer, and soon Small One stopped shivering. Her tiny heart was pounding loudly in her ears, but she could hear the sounds of prey even through her own rushing blood. Most of the denizens of the forest had hidden themselves away from the elements, but a few small feathered things dared to perch out in the open with feathers ruffled for warmth. Small One found herself wishing her wings could carry her into the canopy after them. That would teach them.

Instead, she was forced to growl and hiss at them, taking spiteful pleasure in scaring them off. The empty feeling in her belly had only grown worse since encountering Cold One. She needed to find something small and stupid enough to kill. Every time she scanned the area, all she saw were feathered things on high alert, or the tails of furry things disappearing into holes too small for her to follow. After rediscovering the brook and pausing to lap at it, Small One folded her legs and lay down for a short rest. The clouds still hadn't cleared, but at least the sky water had eased up.

Small One scraped her head along a nearby rock. The stubs that crowned her head were itching, and rubbing them on the rock offered a pleasant relief. She knew in the back of her mind that her horns would be important once they grew in. They would be for claiming territory, for fighting off threats, and for wielding the forces of nature itself. But for now they were just tiny, irritating nubs, and Small One wished they would grow a bit faster, or at least stop bothering her.

As flaky old scales sloughed from her horns, to be replaced with the new ones underneath, movement caught Small One's eye. Slowly, she turned her gaze toward a nearby log, where a long, sinuous creature lay trying to soak up any heat it could. Its tongue flicked in and out of its mouth every now and then, and though its eyes were open, it seemed sluggish and non-responsive. Small One rose to her feet as carefully and quietly as she could. The long creature didn't move, save to flick its tongue out again.

Doing her best to keep dead leaves from crunching underfoot, something which was helped by the sky water, Small One crept up to the log where her quarry had draped itself. The prey didn't so much as twitch even as she moved to position herself perfectly behind it. She wasn't sure if it could see her, with its big buggy eyes, but it gave no indication that it could. As far as Small One was concerned, it was the perfect time to strike.

With a snarling battle cry, Small One leapt at the long prey, catching the end of its tail in her jaws. As soon as her teeth sank into the scaled flesh, the prey began to flail and thrash wildly. Small One tasted its blood and felt its scales crunch in her maw, but her target didn't die nearly as quickly as she had hoped. In its mad writhing, the long prey twisted its body and lunged at Small One, mouth wide open to display a set of glistening fangs. Small One instinctively pulled her head back, but the tip of one fang grazed her nose, causing her to squeak and release the prey's tail.

Now free, the creature quickly slithered off, but Small One wasn't going to let her prey get away so easy. Leaping at it once more, she pinned it down with all four legs, preventing it from striking at her again. One final crunch of her jaws on its head, and she had made her second kill. She snorted as her nose began to burn. This prey was more troublesome than it had looked. Small One dipped her head and sheared a chunk of meat free. The scales were pleasantly crunchy, and the flesh was lean and had a pleasant taste to it. The bones were thin enough for her to snap with minimal effort. All in all, Small One found she much preferred the long prey to the swimming prey.

By the time she had eaten her fill, Small One's entire face was burning. Suddenly feeling rather tired, she glanced up at the still-cloudy sky. She couldn't see the sun, but she imagined it must be at least two-thirds of the way across the sky by now. There was still meat left on the carcass, so Small One grabbed its tail in her teeth and dragged it through the underbrush as she sought a safe place to rest for the day.

By the time Small One discovered a hole big enough for her to crawl into, her entire body felt odd, burning in the absence of fire. Each step sent pain shooting up her legs, and though she knew the day was not unbearably cold, she shivered uncontrollably. It was all she could do not to collapse out in the open, but she knew that doing so would be inviting death.

She hardly registered herself regurgitating her meal, and the scavengers who picked at her kill went unnoticed as she fell into a deep sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does Small One catch the snake? (Finesse = 6)  
> The snake's Weakness to Cold affects Small One's roll (+1)  
> Small One rolls a 10 + 1 = 11 (required 14). Partial Success.
> 
> Is the snake non-venomous? (Luck = 10)  
> Small One rolls a 6 (required 10). Failure.
> 
> We have our first partial success here. A partial success is where Small One succeeds at what she's doing, but not without consequences. Rolls for luck can never be partial successes (since they're usually based on outside factors rather than things Small One herself does)


	8. Poisoned

When Small One cracked her dry eyes open at the break of dawn, she found herself wishing she'd just stayed asleep forever. Her mouth was dry, her head was pounding, a terrible nausea had settled in the pit of her stomach, and every inch of her felt frustratingly weak. Somewhere in her muddled thoughts, she decided the long prey was to blame. Stupid long prey! Its carcass was where she had left it, but to her dismay, a fair portion of it had been picked off by scavengers. Even now, a feathered thing poked its beak under the scales to get at the meat beneath.

Small One stretched her legs to try and stand up, to threaten it and claim her rightful kill, but her legs felt heavy and attempts to move them set her groaning as a fresh wave of sickness rolled over her. Instead, she was forced to simply lay where she had fallen, glaring at the oblivious feathered thing. Her nose wrinkled as a sour smell hit her senses. Glancing round, she spotted a rancid, chunky puddle staining the leaf litter. She'd left that there, hadn't she? Wonderful. In addition to making her sick, the long prey hadn't even stayed in her belly. Now that she realised she hadn't held her food down, she suddenly became aware of her hunger. A low moan escaped from her throat as she twitched her tail.

After a few hours of pain and grogginess, the warm rays of morning sunshine that filtered through the trees gave Small One just enough strength to get her legs under her. Once she stood up, it took a few moments for the world to stop spinning, and she felt as though she was at serious risk of toppling right over again. Still, she managed to hold herself upright, albeit with shaking legs. The feathered scavengers eyed her warily, and quickly flew off as soon as Small One staggered towards them with mouth wide open. She examined the long prey's carcass critically. Before she fell asleep, she felt as though she had three talons in the grave. She had been fine until she hunted the long prey, so that meant the long prey had made her sick. Would it make her sick again if she ate it?

Small One thought hard to the previous day's hunt. Her snout had started burning before the rest of her. And it had first burned when the prey was still alive. Did that mean that the long prey only made her sick when it was alive? She remembered grabbing the prey by its tail, and then it had turned to strike at her. The tip of one of its fangs had grazed her snout, and then it started hurting. Was that what had made her sick?

If it really was the prey's fangs that hurt her and not its meat, then Small One reasoned it must be safe to eat its meat. She doubted she would find any better in her current state, anyway. She dug her snout into the carcass, wincing at how much drier and tougher the meat was now. The nighttime scavengers had picked most of the best parts clean, leaving Small One with tough chunks of muscle, bones, and scales. Still, it was better than nothing, and Small One greedily ate as much as she could stomach.

Her belly mostly full, Small One turned her attention towards water. Her mouth felt as though she had never tasted water in her life. She vaguely remembered where the brook was, though the haze of sickness prevented her from knowing exactly where it was. She struck out in what she hoped was the right direction, hardly bothering to conceal her presence or keep watch for prey.

After a while of slowly trampling through the undergrowth, Small One was quite sure she'd gone the wrong way. The forest here was sparser than she remembered it being near the stream, and there was a well-worn trail weaving between the trees and shrubs. The ground was soft and damp, with a musty smell like yesterday's sky water. Small One lay down for a brief rest, idly examining the mud and the footprints within. Her own small, taloned footprints were obvious, and she could hazard a guess at some small tracks like the ones from feathered or furry things, but there was one set that intrigued her.

The foot was fairly large compared to Small One's own, and split into two sections: one long, one short. An odd pattern of lines marked the inside of the print, and it seemed not to have any claws. The trackway continued through the forest, until the ground became too dry for prints. Small One wracked her brain, and knew even through her malaise that she had not seen any sort of creature with feet like that. Lowering her muzzle to sniff at the nearest print, Small One suddenly recoiled her head and snorted. The prints smelled like death. There was simply no other thing she could smell from them. They smelled so much like death it was as though they were cloaked in it, and Small One wanted nothing more to do with them.

Whether these death-footed ones were predator or prey, Small One did not want to find out. After several attempts, she hauled herself back to her feet and resumed her search for water. She wasn't sure which direction the tracks had been headed since they lacked toes, but she tried to head away from them, back to the safety of the denser forest. Heading back the way she came and trying a different direction to find the water, Small One found herself passing through familiar territory, and she neither saw nor smelled any trace of the death-foots.

After more grueling walking on unsteady legs, and several more breaks, Small One found herself back at the familiar brook, where she greedily lapped up the clear, cool water. Feeling refreshed, but too tired to move, Small One folded her legs and curled her tail for a short rest.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How much has Small One recovered from poisoning? (/100%)  
> Small One rolls a 66 (66% recovery).
> 
> Does Small One realise it was the snake's fangs that made her sick and not its meat? (Intelligence = 10)  
> Small One rolls a 10 (required 10). Success.
> 
> I didn't realise this one was so long. I found it really hard to write for whatever reason.


	9. Death

Small One shook herself awake, realising with a start that she had drifted off by the brook. That wouldn't do. Anything could have walked up and eaten her. Thankfully, this section of forest was too dense for many predators. Resting seemed to have helped Small One recover. She wasn't feeling nearly as weak and shaky as she had earlier. In fact, she felt almost as well as she did before encountering the long prey. She stood up triumphantly, rejoicing in the lack of a lurching stomach.

Since she was full and feeling herself again, Small One found she had no particular goal in mind. Before, she'd been utterly focused on finding something to hunt, but now the matter of food was no longer a priority. Idly lapping at the shallow brook, Small One pondered her next course of action. She could try to explore deeper in the forest, and perhaps find a deeper source of water, with plentiful prey. Then she could begin to carve out her own little slice of forest.

Small One turned towards the area she had met Cold One. Cold One had been in a clearing, but Small One knew there was more forest beyond it. It was also far away from the death-foot trackway, and, she hoped, not where they had been travelling. She kept her gaze at the sky warily, watching for any sudden sky water. Her progress was brisk; she knew the way, and she was enjoying being able to move without wanting to fall over.

Suddenly, a terrible screech echoed through the trees. Small One froze in place. The screech was heavy with agony and fear. It seemed to rebound off of every tree and ripple across every leaf, and Small One had no idea where it was truly coming from. She wondered if she was imagining it, but it sounded a lot like Cold One's voice. She felt the air with her scales. A gentle breeze and a slight chill. Nothing like the bone-piercing cold and howling wind that Cold One had summoned with his growl. Cold One was probably not in the clearing anymore, and that meant it was safe to go there even if he had been the one to scream.

Shaking slightly, Small One reaffirmed her choice. Cold One was not in the clearing. She would be safe there, and whatever terrible fate may have found him would not find her. She marched forth with that thought in mind. It may not have even been Cold One who screeched, anyway. His voice was thick and guttural and hard to understand. Anything could have made a similar sound. Besides, Cold One was so big and powerful there surely couldn't be much that would threaten him. Yes, some other poor creature must have died and let out a final death wail. That was surely it.

So focused was she on her thoughts, she didn't notice when she broke through the treeline and into the clearing until unfiltered sunlight hit her snout. She examined her surroundings, and her blood ran cold. It turned out she was wrong. Cold One was in the clearing.

Or at least, his body was.

Cold One lay dead, sprawled next to the tattered remains of his previous kill. His eyes were open in a glassy stare, the gash on his face having been crossed by another, fresher slash. Parts of his tough skin had been rent asunder, leaving giant gaping holes that dribbled thickening blood onto the dirt. Half of his tail was gone, leaving a bleeding stump, and his wings were tattered and torn beyond all use. Small One stared, fixated on the gory scene before her. The stench of death was overwhelming, radiating from both Cold One's body and an odd figure that hunched over next to him.

It was tall and oddly lanky, with soft-looking skin and stubby claws. Its outer coat hung loosely about it, and it attacked Cold One's corpse with a single sharp fang, peeling away his hard skin. Small One blinked. This strange creature was larger than her, but she had no doubt she could kill it if she tried hard enough. It was prey. Yet it stank so strongly of death that there was no doubt in Small One's mind that it had left the strange footprints. It garbled away to itself in a high-pitched voice, never quite making the same sound twice, as it tossed bits and pieces of Cold One into piles at its side.

Small One flattened her body as low to the ground as she could get. She did not want to be spotted by the death-prey, and she feared backing up into the forest might make too much noise. Across the clearing, the trees parted and two more death-prey strode out. These ones looked different. Instead of having a loose, thin outer skin, these ones were encased in hard shells the same colour as Cold One's hide, with orange lines running along their limbs. Small One couldn't see their eyes or mouths. How did they live? One had a massive fang on its back, easily taller than the death-prey itself, and a shell on one of its arms. The other had a huge, blocky claw attached to its back. Small One wondered how they managed to use such awkwardly placed fangs and claws to hunt down their prey.

The pair of death-prey garbled and chattered to one another, even though Small One still couldn't figure out where their mouths were. The death-prey with loose skin lifted its head and waved a forelimb at the other two, and all three began to call excitedly. The loose-skinned one ran its stubby claws along Cold One's dead neck as the armoured death-prey approached, still garbling. Small One pressed herself even flatter. Now there were three of the strange predators.

As the trio garbled, the newcomers joined the first one in prodding at Cold One's carcass. To Small One's confusion, none of them seemed to want to eat him. They pulled off his skin and sheared his horns, eagerly displaying them to each other, but they ignored the bounty of meat he offered in favour of gathering his blood and taking chunks of bone. One of the death-prey paused to rest, settling itself on the grass, directly facing Small One. Small One's heart began to race. Would it see her?

The death-prey stood up, waving its gangly limbs and warbling faster and louder, and Small One knew it had spotted her. The other two death-prey looked up, abandoning Cold One to suddenly sprint towards her. Small One uncoiled her legs and bounded back into the forest, adrenaline fueling her panicked run. She crashed straight through shrubs, not bothering to go around, and it was all she could do to skid around trees. Behind her, the sound of the death-prey's clanging footfalls and their frantic calling spurred her forward even faster.

Small One's flight came to an abrupt end when she tried to jump a fallen log. Misjudging the distance and height, her hind legs caught on the rotting wood, tipping her forward into a crashing roll on the other side. She scrambled to get her legs back under her, but it was too late. The garbles grew closer, and Small One was roughly grabbed and hoisted into the air by the death-prey with the long fang, its hard armour chilling her scales.

Small One flailed and thrashed, kicking with all four legs, beating her little wings and whipping her tail. She clamped her jaws on one of her captor's claws, but its shell was too tough her her teeth to pierce. For all her flailing, the death-prey held its grip, using one hand to hold her jaws firmly shut and wrapping its other forelimb around her midsection to hold her in place. The other two death-prey quickly caught up, warbling and chattering excitedly. Small One glowered at them as fiercely as she could, but despite all her struggling, she couldn't free herself.

The loose-skinned one reached into the folds of its skin and pulled out a bundle of dry looking leaves and mushrooms. Small One's captor forced her head forwards, and the bundle was pressed up to her nose. It smelled bitter and earthy, but Small One didn't have much time to ponder it before her eyelids abruptly slammed shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How much more has Small One recovered from poisoning? (/34%)  
> Small One rolls a 32. 32 + 66 = 98% recovery.
> 
> Does Small One successfully evade the death-prey? (Finesse = 6)  
> Small One rolls a 6 (required 14). Failure.
> 
> Does Small One escape from the death-prey's grasp? (Strength = 5)  
> Small One rolls a 1 (required 15). Critical Failure.
> 
> We started out with such a good roll then followed it up with a bad roll and an even worse roll. Almost missed writing today's chapter since I had a busy day, but I managed to do it, so go me. It's also the longest chapter so far, so extra yay.


	10. Bound

Small One slowly came back to awareness, groggy and confused. She was lying on her side, with something chafing at her legs and wings and a smooth floor rubbing her scales. The ground was shaking slightly, and every now and then a jolt would send her into the air briefly. Trying to open her eyes resulted in a pounding headache that warded her off. She lay there, breathing shallowly, and simply listened to the low rumbling from the ground and what sounded like muffled calls from other beasts in the distance.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed before she finally worked up the nerve to open her eyes, but when she did her confusion only grew. She was inside some sort of boxy structure, formed of long bars of tough grey material. Scenery rushed past in a blur outside the bars, and looking at it made Small One's stomach lurch. She tried to stand up and investigate her surroundings some more, but something had caught her legs and tangled them painfully together. She glared back and saw a fibrous substance, like someone had dried the vines that hung from trees, wrapped in coils around her legs and tying them together. Pulling with one leg to try and free herself only resulted in a painful tugging on the other.

Growling, Small One reached back to try and chew her way through the brown vines, but found she couldn't open her jaws. Crossing her eyes to glare at her own snout, she saw a flat black thing winding its way around her snout, holding her mouth firmly shut. She scraped her head along the smooth, metallic floor, but the muzzle held in place. Her jaws shivered from the effort of trying to force her mouth open, until she finally gave up, partly out of fear she would burst something if she tried any harder. She growled and glowered at her bound limbs. If she had her claws, freeing her snout from the binding would be easy. But she needed her teeth to free her claws.

Unable to move and unable to get the restricting wrappings off, Small One was forced to lay stewing in indignation as her prison rumbled along. Trying to figure out where she was going made her head hurt all over again. The green of the forest was nowhere to be seen, and the blurred colours beyond the bars gave few hints as to where she was. Only the sky remained unmoving, bright blue with only a few small clouds drifting along.

After a while, the rushing scenery slowed, until Small One could make out a massive, shining tower, sunlight reflecting off of its pristine surface. Countless death-prey scurried about at its base, some with loose skin and some with hard shells. Low cries reverberated from within the tower, and to Small One's ears they sounded sad and empty. She was so focused on the tower that she didn't notice her prison had stopped moving until a wall swung outwards. A loose-skinned death-prey reached its forelimbs towards Small One, and though she tried to wriggle away, it wrapped its arms around her and hefted her into the air.

It brought her up to its face, making cooing sounds. Small One tried to encourage it to drop her with the iciest stare and lowest growl she could muster, but all it did was close its little eyes and make a strange barking noise. It cupped Small One in one flexible forelimb and used its free claw to scratch behind her ears, which felt surprisingly nice. Not that Small One would give her captor the satisfaction of purring for it. The death-prey swept its long mane back and strode towards the base of the tower, cradling Small One and garbling at other death-prey that approached.

The interior of the tower was like a maze, with long corridors branching off into rooms, bustling with death-prey of all shapes and sizes. The one carrying Small One traveled with purpose, as though it somehow knew every inch of this strange, unnatural territory. It carried her through hallways and down ramps, and steadily the herd of death-prey thinned until it was just Small One and her captor, the busy garbling of the death-prey a mere rumble in the background. Small One's ears perked as the low, grumbling moans of monsters reached her.

Small One found herself being set on the ground, and immediately got to work flailing and trying to get up. But just like in the moving prison, her bound legs meant the most she could do was flop about like a swimming prey. The death-prey who had carried her down cooed at her again, even as it fiddled with a barred wall that lead to a dark, dusty room that smelled like despair. The wall swung outwards, and Small One was picked up again and deposited onto a pile of dry grass in the corner. The death-prey plucked a circular object from the wall and crouched next to Small One, still making its cooing noises.

Small One twisted her head and thrashed as much as she could to try and discourage it from coming any closer, but her assailant was unfazed, and it slipped the rough, heavy thing around Small One's neck. Then, to Small One's surprise, it reached down and began to tug at Small One's leg bindings. As soon as they were free, she flexed her aching legs to stand up, but the death-prey pressed one hand on her back, pinning her to the floor. It used its free hand to reach into the folds of its skin and find a gleaming claw, which it brought to Small One's snout. Small One held herself as still as possible. Now was not the time for thrashing.

Rather than kill her like she was expecting, the death-prey used its claw to slice through the binding on her mouth. As soon as she could move her jaws, Small One lunged at the death-prey, but it pulled its hand back and out of snapping range. Still holding her down, it began to stand up, garbling at her again. Small One could feel the pressure of its arm lessening, and she tensed herself to leap. The death-prey pulled its arm back and Small One jumped at it with claws outstretched, only to be pulled painfully short, her throat momentarily being tugged at.

Small One twisted her head to see what had pulled her, while the death-prey, now outside of the dark room, closed the wall and fiddled with it again. A length of interlocking shiny rocks connected Small One's new neck binding to the wall, giving her just enough freedom of movement to reach the bedding pile and the long pool of water in the corner. Pulling at it to try and reach the moving wall just resulted in more pain to her throat, and clawing at it was like trying to cut at a rock. The death-prey made one last cooing noise at Small One before it turned to leave, its feet clacking on the smooth stone floor as it went, leaving Small One alone in the dark.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does Small One free her mouth from the binding? (Strength = 5)  
> Small One rolls a 6 (required 15). Failure.
> 
> On the buzzer for posting this one (it's 11:30PM as it's going up), but I made it.  
> Also, I never said what time period this story took place in, did I? Welcome to the Ancient Civilisation.


	11. Contact

Small One paced anxiously in the limited space her tether afforded her, talons clicking against the stone. The room had a deep, impenetrable stench of despair that permeated every surface. Even the stagnant water smelled like hopelessness. Every now and then, some other creature would make a sound, though Small One couldn’t actually see any other living things. The room was dim, lit only by a few weak shafts of sunlight coming from a barred hole in the wall, much too high up for Small One to even think about trying to escape. Besides, she still couldn’t get the choking ring off of her neck.

From the wall to Small One’s left came a low, quiet croon, muffled by the stone. Small One’s ears perked. The sounds flowed together in a way that made sense. It was another of her kind! Pressing herself against the wall, she chirped a response. The croon had been a simple question: who are you? And Small One’s answer was just as simple, because she was Small One and nothing more. The voice beyond the wall sounded hollow, as though the life had been sucked out of it. Still, it was what Small One had spent the first day of her life searching for: an adult who knew their way about the world and its dangers.

Small One squeaked and chirped to the stranger beyond the wall, but they were slow to respond. It was as though their throat was unused to communication. Small One butted her tiny horns against the wall and scraped her claws along it. She needed to break through and see the adult with her own eyes, so the adult could teach her how to live. But the wall was unrelenting, and after a while, Small One’s calls stopped receiving answers.

When it became clear that the adult was no longer interested in conversation, Small One resumed her restless padding. The pile of dry grass made a poor hiding spot, and no matter which way Small One tried to curl up on it, she couldn’t feel secure. Time seemed to stop for her, trapped with nowhere to go and nothing to do. She rubbed her snout on the stone wall, fearing she might die of sheer boredom, but a faint echo of death-prey from the hall caught her attention, as well as the scent of meat.

The death-prey who had tied Small One to the wall was approaching, carrying a hollowed out wooden thing. It paused before each barred wall, reaching into the container and tossing a few slabs of meat to the inhabitants of the dark rooms. When it came to Small One, it paused, watching her rub her snout on the wall. Small One glared at the stone wall that separated her from the adult. The death-prey tossed a few small strips of meat next to Small One before it walked away, casting an aside glance her as it went. When it had finished providing food, it vanished back from where it had come.

Small One eyed the meat lying on the floor. She was hungry, but she wouldn’t eat. She would not give her captors the satisfaction of eating their leftover prey. She may have been small and fragile now, but one day she would be a mighty creature that only the gods themselves could tame, and she was going to act like it. Despite the tempting smell of the meat, Small One redoubled her efforts to break down the wall and unite with the dragon next door. She bashed her horn stubs on it, gnawed at it with her teeth, and raked it with her claws, but all that happened was that she got a fresh headache and left a few white marks on the stone.

The other creatures began to growl and hiss as she attacked the wall, clearly disturbed by the sound of her efforts. Small One called to her neighbour, asking them to help her from the other side, but her only response was a sleepy grunt. Small One snarled. Weren’t adults supposed to help hatchlings? Eventually, Small One was forced to rest. The smell of the meat set her hunger on edge, but she forced herself to ignore it. She would not accept the death-prey’s food, and when she united with the elder, they would destroy the death-prey together. She just needed to get through the wall first.

As Small One lay panting, she heard the now-familiar sound of death-prey approaching, only there appeared to be two this time. One was the usual death-prey, with the long mane and loose skin. The other was a taller, tougher looking one with skin that looked somewhere between the loose-skins and the hard shells. The pair chattered to one another, though the loose-skinned one seemed to be acting aggressively towards the other one. The pair of death-prey paused in front of Small One’s prison, and she took the opportunity to glower at them and spread her wings threateningly.

The death-prey with the long mane pointed a claw at Small One, still barking at its companion. It gestured to the uneaten food, and its noises seemed to increase in volume. Eventually, the larger death-prey reached to its side and passed a set of small, shiny objects to the smaller one. The smaller one nodded its head, and the larger one watched as it began to make the familiar cooing sounds, opening the cage door. Small One hissed and snapped her jaws, but the larger death-prey strode in with confidence. It snatched Small One up into the air, pinning her legs to her sides and clamping her mouth shut in one smooth movement, Small One’s lashing tail barely fazing it.

The long-maned death-prey fiddled at the wall where Small One’s chain connected, detaching the tether and bundling it up. It stroked Small One’s face gently with one hand, whispering unintelligibly in her ear even as her captors left the room with her in tow.

To Small One’s surprise, they didn’t take her far. Instead, they moved to the stall to her left, where the voice had come from, and swung open the door. The smaller death-prey called out cheerfully into the gloom of the cage, and the one holding Small One stepped in without a hint of fear. Small One was held low to the ground, not quite free but almost there, while the death-prey attached her chain to the wall of this new cage. As soon as she had been re-tied, the one holding her released its grip, stepping away in anticipation of Small One’s lunge. Just as before, the chain pulled her back, and she settled for a hiss of defiance.

The pair left after closing the cage and throwing Small One’s uneaten food in. Small One snorted at it, despite her growing hunger. Instead, she turned her gaze towards the figure lying prone on the pile of bedding, a figure that smelled even through the bitter stench of despair like a female of her own kind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does Small One damage the wall? (Strength = 5)  
> Small One rolls a 5 (required 15). Failure.
> 
> Small One really can’t catch a break with these rolls, can she?


	12. Broken One

Small One briefly wondered if the adult was dead. It hadn't moved at all while she was being handled so roughly, and adults were supposed to protect hatchlings. Her new cellmate proved she was alive when she lifted her head to stare blankly at Small One. Small One didn't like her eyes. They were dull and empty, like the adult had given up on hope. When the adult purred a greeting, her tone was one of resignation. Small One cautiously stepped over to the adult with a soft chirp.

It was then that Small One noticed something off about her. The space above her eyes was oddly empty, with only a set of perfectly straight stumps remaining. Where were the adult's horns? Small One squeaked in surprise, and the adult lifted her gaze towards her stumps. She didn't seem to be too bothered by it, cheerfully crooning about how her masters had taken her horns from her. Small One thought she heard a faint twinge of bitterness and despair in the adult's tone. Why was she not furiously wreaking vengeance against the death-prey? It was like she was broken in spirit as well as in body.

Small One pressed herself into the bedding next to Broken One, and Broken One lazily sniffed at her. Small One took the opportunity to look the rest of Broken One over. She didn't look nearly so majestic as the hatchling had imagined a fully-grown dragon would. Her scales were dull and dirty, her claws were flat and useless, her ribs were clearly visible, and her wings were tattered. She was covered in small, precise scars, and in some places her scales had been peeled away, leaving exposed, scabby skin, as though she had lost a million fights.

As Broken One examined Small One, she rumbled softly in Small One's ears. The rumbles were nostalgic, the fresh scent of the forest seemingly awakening memories for Broken One. Small One tried asking Broken One about finding a way to escape, but Broken One ignored her, continuing to chatter away to herself about her life in the outside world so long ago. Small One quickly realised she wouldn't get anywhere with Broken One, so she stood up and went to examine the anchor point for her tether.

Just like in her previous room, the anchor point was much too high up for her to reach, and gnawing on the chain accomplished nothing. Broken One watched from the corner with mild interest. Small One turned towards her and chirped a demand for help, but Broken One's crooned reply was to simply wonder why she should bother. Small One snorted. Broken One was no true dragon, not anymore. She seemed content to laze about doing nothing, but Small One would be strong and find her way out, with or without Broken One.

The scent from the meat reached Small One's nose yet again, and she forced herself to ignore it despite her hunger. The light filtering in through the barred hole had dimmed, and Small One assumed it would be night soon. It would be time to sleep, but there was no safe place to sleep in here. The pile of dry grass was much too exposed, and it wasn't like Broken One would be any use against threats if she kept being so lazy.

After pacing the entire room, however, Small One could find no better place to sleep. She resigned herself to hoping that whatever predators attacked would eat Broken One first, and curled up on the bedding next to Broken One's gaunt frame. Broken One's gaze was drawn to Small One's spurned food, and Small One heard her croon an order: eat. Small One kept her mouth firmly shut even as the thought of eating tempted her. She would not obey the death-prey.

Broken One suddenly stood up, a laborious process that seemed to take her a few tries, and walked over to the drying strips of meat, scooping them up in her jaws. Small One noticed that her teeth had mostly been filed down, and the two massive fangs that should have jutted from her lower jaw were missing. Small One thought that perhaps Broken One would eat her food, but instead, she brought the flesh over to Small One and dropped it. Small One stuck her snout into the air. Broken One nudged the food a little closer, and still Small One refused.

Suddenly, Broken One growled, a deep, intimidating sound that send chills down Small One's spine. For a split second, Broken One was the proud, powerful predator she should have been, and Small One was painfully aware of how small she really was in comparison. The growl was a command: _eat, or something awful will happen_ , and so Small One ate, resenting the fact that she had accepted food from her captors, but thankful to silence her hunger pangs. She glanced back at Broken One, but the moment had passed, and Broken One was back to her usual lifeless self.

The cage was soon shrouded in darkness as night fell, and Small One found there was nothing left to do but press herself up against Broken One and try to sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No dice rolls today, since I was trying to introduce Broken One as a character and there wasn’t that much action going on. I angsted super hard about whether or not to include actual dialogue for their conversation, but in the end I decided not to. I’m still not 100% sure that was the right decision, though.


	13. Tower

Small One was rudely awakened the next morning by her sleeping perch standing up, leaving her to fall roughly onto the scratchy grass below. Blinking herself awake, Small One saw Broken One slowly lumbering over to the open gate, completely unbound, where a death-prey stood waiting. It was an individual that Small One hadn't seen before, a taller one with tight fitting skin and a grim expression on its flat face. It barked an order at Broken One, who dipped her head low in submission and began to follow it obediently.

Small One couldn't believe what she was seeing. The death-prey may have been too big for Small One to handle, but there was no doubt in her mind that Broken One could snap it up and devour it in one bite. And yet she followed it meekly and without even a hint of a struggle. Broken One paused in the dim hallway, and the death-prey entered the cage, glaring at Small One. It unhitched her chain from the wall and tugged on it, yanking Small One's neck forward. Small One snarled at the audacity of the thing. It truly presumed to order a dragon around?

She glanced at Broken One to see if she might actually be useful for once and help, but Broken One only fixed Small One with a glare. The death-prey barked another order, this time at Small One, who dug her heels in against the pulling on her chain. Eventually, though, the pressure on her throat became too much, and she was forced to move forward, growling all the while. If nothing else, wherever she was being taken would probably be better than the dark and hopeless cell.

The death-prey lead Small One out into the hallway, where she fell into step with Broken One. The collar chafed at the scales on her neck as she was roughly pulled where the death-prey wanted her to go. She glowered up at Broken One, but Broken One merely glared back, with a low growl to behave, or else. Was it just Small One's imagination, or did Broken One sound afraid? They were lead down the long corridor, and Small One stole glances into the other cages as she went by them. Most of the dragons within had the same, hollow look in their eyes as Broken One, save for a small hardskin like Cold One, pressing himself against the bars of his cage with a snarl. Small One watched him with interest as he fiercely struggled to escape, and couldn't help but admire his spirit.

He was gone from her sight before long, as she was lead up into higher levels of the tower, the sudden light stinging at her eyes. Bustling death-prey cleared a path for Small One and her escorts, and Small One caught sight of a few other dragons being lead around, including an exceptionally strong-looking red beast, with a fiery mane and rage in his eyes. He snarled and roared and swatted at all those who came near him, and it was taking several death-prey to control him, even muzzled as he was. Swirls of dangerous-looking red dust flew from his wings, catching fire in the air and sending wary death-prey scattering.

Watching the firemane struggle against his captors lit a fire in Small One's belly. She would struggle too, not be strung along like some kind of lesser beast! She began to shift her weight from claw to claw in anticipation of a lunge, and this did not escape Broken One's notice. Broken One glared down at her, silently encouraging her to simply obey, but Small One would not be cowed. Hissing, she suddenly jerked her head back and planted all four feet on the smooth stone floor, pulling the death-prey ahead of her to a sudden stop. Despite the surprise of Small One's resistance, it managed to keep a hold of her chain. It turned to command her to follow, but she did her best to hold firm, even as her claws began to lose their tentative grip on the floor.

She flared her wings open as wide as they could go, trying to make herself look as big and threatening as possible, but the death-prey was unfazed. It gave a sharp tug on the chain, and Small One lost her balance, tipping forward onto her face. Other death-prey had begun to cluster around the scene, some levelling their strange fangs and claws at her, but the one pulling Small One garbled at them to ward them away. It strode up to Small One and began to chatter at her in sharp, raised tones, annoyance evident on its face. Small One lifted her head and snapped at it, only to yelp as it suddenly gave her a sharp tap on the end of her snout.

Its tones were sharp and gravelly, and though the garbles themselves made no sense to Small One, she understood the message quite clearly: disobeying had consequences. Inwardly, Small One decided that the slippery floor was to blame for her failure to fight, and decided she would escape someplace else, where her claws could find traction. Glancing over at the firemane, her spirits fell as she realised that he too had finally been subdued, bitterly following along after a crowd of death-prey. He passed Small One's entourage, and as he looked at Small One, she thought she caught a hint of admiration in his eyes. But then he was gone, and the death-prey resumed swarming as before.

Once more, Small One fell into step alongside Broken One, and Broken One lowered her head to examine Small One's snout. Her soft, concerned croons had a definite undercurrent of relief to them, like she was afraid something worse could have happened. Her sharp chirps carried a simple command to obey the masters or suffer the dire consequences. Small One snorted. A sharp tap to the snout was hardly a dire consequence. The death-prey had merely caught her off guard, that was it. She'd get loose soon.

Now that the brief struggle was over, Small One's journey through the tower was much quicker. She was lead through all sorts of places, each with its own unique smell. There was a place full of death-prey with loose white skin, that smelled unnatural and toxic, and there was a place full of armoured death-prey that smelled like heat and overexertion. At each window they passed, there were little alcoves where bored-looking dragons sat chained to the floor, staring out of the windows with resignation in their eyes.

Broken One was commanded into a room where the white-coated death-prey were working, but Small One was pulled further upwards, past countless bored dragons and excited death-prey. Eventually, she was lead into a huge, circular pit lined with stone perches. The sky was visible above, and Small One yearned to reach it, but even if she could fly it would be no use, for a net of chains separated the pit from the outside world. Several other dragons, some subadults but mostly hatchlings and yearlings, stood in a rough line on the stone, being directed by a pair of armoured death-prey. Small One's chain was handed off to one of the pair, and her previous captor quickly left.

Once it was gone, Small One found herself being roughly shoved into a position near the end of the line, right next to a blue firemane. The blue firemane was hardly older than Small One herself, with only a few wispy strands of mane and tiny horns adorning her head. To Small One's delight, her eyes seemed to hold the same defiance as Small One's own, and Small One wondered if she might be convinced to escape with her.

A sudden crack split the air, making Small One flinch. She turned towards the pair of death-prey, one of whom was holding a long, thin piece of hide. One of the older dragons, a hardskin, growled and snapped, startled by the noise, but the death-prey lashed the whip at his snout, making him recoil with a whimper.

Small One suddenly got the sense that staying in the dim, depressing cage may have been better after all.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does Small One escape from her captor? (Strength = 5)  
> Small One rolls a 7 (required 15). Failure.
> 
> Kind of an awkward stopping point, but I really didn’t have the energy to keep going today. Poor Small One’s been getting pretty consistently bad rolls lately. And after RNGesus was so nice to her on her first day, too.


	14. Rebellion

Small One found herself being pressed closer to the blue firemane beside her with each strike of the whip. Any and all attempts at aggression were met with a swift lashing. The barbed tip of the whip left shallow cuts in Small One’s scales, until she finally gave up and let herself be herded. The other dragons were being forced to pack tighter together as well, and angry growls and irritated snaps sounded throughout the arena.

The death-prey issuing the orders barked an unintelligible command at the clustered dragons. When nothing moved, it lashed the whip across the nearest hardskin’s face, causing it to yelp. Again, the death-prey barked its command, and this time a juvenile purple-scaled dragon with odd eyes bowed his head in submission. The death-prey did not lash the whip this time, instead bobbing its head as if it were pleased. Small One tossed her head derisively. He hadn’t even tried to resist.

The death-prey glared and lashed its whip again, clearly expecting the rest of its captives to bow to it as well. A few of the weaker-willed dragons dipped their heads, mostly the hatchlings and yearlings. To Small One’s delight, the blue firemane shrieked boldly in defiance, spurring a few of the juveniles to hiss and snarl as well. Small One added her own voice to the chorus, and soon the shuffling of unhappy talons began to overpower the voices of the death-prey. Small One pounced forward, intent on finally proving she was no slave. Behind her, she heard Bold One’s blue paws scrabbling at the stone.

Taken by surprise, Small One’s target didn’t have time to react as she leapt onto its chest and began to scratch and claw as fiercely as she could. It dropped the whip and began to flail its arms wildly in an attempt to pull Small One off, but Small One kept her grip. She was pleased to discover that its tight-fitting hide was nowhere near as tough as the hard shell worn by the death-prey in the forest. Her claws ripped through the hide as if it was barely there, leaving deep rents in the death-prey’s flesh. Small One suddenly felt herself being yanked back by the wings, presumably by the other death-prey.

As she struggled against her captor, she was suddenly dropped as the second death-prey screamed. Turning her head, Small One saw Bold One latched onto the death-prey’s arm, biting and clawing for all she was worth. With Small One’s original target fleeing with its hand clutching at its chest, Small One threw herself at Bold One’s prey, tearing at the flesh of its legs and making it stagger. The death-prey suddenly growled, reaching for the metal fang at its waist with its free hand. It slashed at Bold One’s face, and Bold One howled in pain as she fell to the ground.

With Bold One reeling on the ground, the death-prey glowered down at Small One, gleaming fang raised. Small One coiled herself to dodge, but the strike never came. Instead, the death-prey was struck on the head from behind by what seemed to be the air itself, falling to the ground. Whether it was dead or merely unconscious, Small One couldn’t tell, but for the moment, all was oddly still. She squinted at the air, trying to figure out where the attack had come from. Suddenly, the air shimmered, and the purple-scaled dragon from before materialised into being. He stuck his long tongue out with a chirp.

Small One glowered at him for a moment before letting her gaze soften. He may have been weak-willed, but he had made her victory all the smoother. She glanced around. For the moment, the area was clear of death-prey, but one had escaped, and that meant more would soon arrive. Nudging at the prone Bold One, Small One was pleased to discover she was still alive, though the left side of her face was so thoroughly covered in blood that Small One doubted she could see through both eyes.

The other dragons, the ones who hadn’t participated in the fight, shifted anxiously from foot to foot. Small One chirped at them to follow her, to run and fight their way to freedom. They seemed not to understand her, but a red firemane and a subadult hardskin quickly figured out that this was their best shot at escaping, and they relayed the message to their own kind, the entire pack beginning to rush towards the door with chains dragging behind them.

Nudging at Bold One yet again, Small One managed to encourage her to get up. Even through the streaming blood, there was a gleam in Bold One’s visible eye, a hope for freedom. With the clearskin glancing back at them from the doorway, Small One and Bold One rushed for the exit, following the pack of young dragons through the wide hallways. The panicked shouts of death-prey and the clash of metal on scales rebounded from below, and Small One regretted not chasing her wounded prey down when she had the chance.

The collar around her neck weighed heavier than ever, and the chain that dragged behind her seemed determined to get caught on everything as she ran. Bold One and the clearskin seemed to be having the same problem, and Bold One was additionally hampered by her bleeding wound. The clearskin paused every now and then to flick his tongue out and examine Bold One, keeping his odd gait as steady as he could as if to safeguard the smaller dragons.

When Small One rounded a corner, she came face to face with a chaotic battleground. The pack of escaped dragonlings had managed to gain enough confidence to actually fight back against their captors. The older ones were throwing blasts of ice and fire at the death-prey, who seemed unprepared for such elemental attacks, throwing themselves out of the way of miniature tornadoes and streams of flame. One firemane set off an explosion of fiery wing dust, sending the death-prey scattering. Unfortunately, his attack knocked a nearby hardskin off balance, and the two began to snap at one another until a death-prey rammed a long fang into the firemane’s chest and the pair refocused on their true enemy.

Several young dragons lay bleeding, while a few death-prey were being carried away from the scene by others. Small One realised that the bigger dragonlings were more likely to kill her with their powerful attacks than they were to help, and if she and Bold One wanted to escape, they were going to have to weave their way through the brawl. Gesturing with her head to Bold One, Small One quickly ducked her way between a subadult hardskin’s legs, Bold One following close behind. She glanced around, having lost sight of the clearskin, before turning her gaze to the hall in front of her. She was little enough that she could slip through the chaos without being noticed, and Bold One wasn’t much bigger than her.

They dashed around the legs of both dragon and death-prey alike. Just as Small One had thought, they went unnoticed, quickly breaking away from the fight and into the quieter, currently-empty hallways. Small One’s chain got itself caught on a rocky decoration near the floor as they ran, forcing her to loop back and untangle it. As she did, a death-prey rushed up from below. It paused for a split second before shouting something at Small One and Bold One in its strange garbled voice, but suddenly, the air above shimmered and revealed the clearskin, clinging to the roof with his strange, sticky feet. He rushed down the wall, dragging his own chain with him, and planted himself squarely in front of Small One and Broken One.

The death-prey barked the now-familiar order at the clearskin, and to Small One’s horror, he lowered his head in a bow. The death-prey folded its arms, looking satisfied, then turned to Small One and Bold One. It took a few steps forward, clearly intent on recapturing them, but suddenly a steaming purple blob was deposited onto its head from behind. Small One stared at the clearskin, who waved his long tongue at her, before striking the confused and coughing death-prey with his paw and sending it tumbling towards the wall, where it lay momentarily stunned.

Small One was amazed. To think that the clearskin could be so clever as to feign submission for a sneak attack. With Clever One at the lead, Small One and Bold One resumed their flight down the hallway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does Small One overpower the death-prey? (Strength = 5)  
> Bold One’s help affects Small One’s roll (+2)  
> Small One rolls an 18 + 2 = 20 (required 15). Success.
> 
> We’re on the buzzer again for this one. In fact, I actually had to stop sooner than I wanted to in order to make sure I’d actually get it up on time. For those wondering, the 20 strength roll isn’t a critical success because a critical success (or indeed, a critical failure) has to be a natural, unaided roll to count.


	15. Hope

The dragons guarding the windows watched the trio of dragonlings with interest as they ran down the hallway. Not a one of them raised the alarm or tried to stop them. Small One supposed this was probably the most exciting thing they’d seen in a while. She briefly considered stopping and trying to free them, but decided against it. It would take too long and be far too difficult a task. Ahead, the sound of several armoured death-prey approaching grew louder. Small One saw Clever One squawk and rear up, narrowly avoiding a whizzing projectile that embedded itself in the wall behind him. A quintet of death-prey rounded the bend, weapons at the ready.

Behind her, Bold One growled and spread her wings, but Small One knew there would be no point in fighting. She remembered the death-prey who had taken her from the forest. Her teeth and talons hadn’t even scratched the metal shell. Instead, they were going to have to run through them and make a break for the base of the tower, or at least, a window low enough for a fall to not be fatal. Clever One whipped his tongue at the nearest death-prey, the one holding a strange horned thing that shot pointed sticks at lethal speed. The death-prey began to shout as Clever One’s tongue came away with a bottle of vivid red liquid in its grasp, but its shouts morphed into coughs when Clever One spewed a purple-white mist over the entire group.

While they were all distracted, Small One dashed forward, ducking low and being careful not to breathe in the noxious cloud. The sound of Bold One’s paws padding on the ground told Small One that she had gotten the message too. Small One had hoped to get by stealthily, but the rattling of her chain put an end to that plan. One of the death-prey, this one wielding a long, flat claw, pointed its stubby claw at Small One and Bold One. Small One hissed and redoubled her efforts, putting on a burst of speed and skidding around the bend. Clever One squawked in pain as one of the pointed sticks found its mark, and after one last blast of poisonous mist, he rushed up a wall, following Small One and Bold One while dodging more pointed sticks and slipping in and out of visibility.

They rushed down the slippery spiral hallway at terrifying speed, not daring to look back but knowing they were still being chased. It seemed as though all of the non-armoured death-prey had been cleared out, because the hallway was empty aside from the guard dragons, who watched the young elders run past. More than one offered an encouraging screech. When Small One rushed past the room where Broken One had been taken, she wondered if it might be a good idea to pause and get the adult dragon. In the end, she didn’t stop. Broken One would probably try to stop her as soon as help her, and Broken One was a lot bigger than a death-prey.

Instead, she kept running, hoping that Bold One was still with her and that Clever One was still on the wall. Suddenly, a panicked chirp from above drew her attention. Her heart sank when she realised what Clever One was warning her about. Angry chatters and garbles mixed with the sound of armoured feet ahead. Thinking quick, Small One rushed to the nearest window, startling the half-asleep hardskin that guarded it. To her dismay, it was a little bit too high up for her to risk jumping. But not  by that much. A few windows down and they could probably make the jump without dying. And of course, Clever One could just fly to freedom.

But making it a few windows down was easier said than done. As Small One turned to make a final rush down the corridor, the trio of armoured death-prey rushed up to meet her, shouting and levelling weapons at her. Once again, there was no fighting these ones; their hide was too tough. Small One scanned their legs for a gap she could bolt through. Another distraction from Clever One would be helpful. Thankfully, he seemed to sense what she wanted, flicking his sticky tongue out to trip a nearby death-prey and send it crashing to the ground.

Taking advantage of the momentary confusion, Small One rushed forward, Clever One’s chirps and squawks mixing with the disgruntled chatters of the death-prey. To Small One’s distress, Bold One seemed to be slowing down, her bleeding wound finally starting to get the better of her. Small One squeaked at her to keep going, hoping the message would carry even through the language barrier. Behind them, the sound of something cracking and a bloodcurdling shriek from Clever One set Small One’s heart racing, but she didn’t dare turn back. She just had to reach the right window, and once she was there she could help Clever One. Her talons scrabbled to find a grip on the smooth stone as she ran.

Clever One suddenly rushed up next to her, in full view for once, and Small One’s stomach twisted as she realised that the tip of his horn had been snapped off, leaving a strange-looking stump. Still, he’d clearly managed to hold off the three death-prey long enough to catch up with Small One and Bold One. It was now or never. Small One veered off to the nearest window, roughly shoving her way past the firemane on guard, and called to her companions to follow. It was a little higher than she would have liked, but it would do. Clever One, with his odd eyes, somehow managed to stare out the window and back into the hallway at the same time. Spreading his wings, he leapt out into the air, where he hovered as though waiting for the smaller dragons.

Small One’s heart soared with him. He was free! She glanced back to make sure Bold One was still there and that the hallway was still clear, before spreading her own wings and getting ready for a glide. Right as she leapt, several things happened at once. The guarding firemane bellowed a warning, Bold One cried out, and Small One’s chain was violently yanked, taking the air from her lungs and sending her crashing onto the hard stone floor. Small One screeched at a sickening snap and horrific pain in her right wing. Her vision blackened at the edges and she suddenly felt like regurgitating yesterday’s pitiful meal.

Through the haze of pain, Small One couldn’t put up a fight as she was lifted up and muzzled. She barely noticed the death-prey attacking Clever One, or Clever One fleeing into the air. Vaguely, she was aware of Bold One being muzzled with her. When a death-prey shoved a bundle of herbs and mushrooms at her, she was profoundly grateful for the blissful unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does Small One escape? (Finesse = 6)  
> The weight of chains affects Small One’s roll (-3)  
> Small One rolls a 1 - 3 = -2 (required 14). Critical Failure.
> 
> Does Bold One escape? (Finesse = 4)  
> The weight of chains affects Bold One’s roll (-3)  
> Eye injury affects Bold One’s roll (-1)  
> Bold One rolls a 6 - 4 = 2 (required 16). Failure.
> 
> Does Clever One escape? (Finesse = 8)  
> The weight of chains affects Clever One’s roll (-3)  
> Clever One rolls a 12 - 3 = 9 (required 12). Partial Success.
> 
> Small One’s luck sure turned on a dime, didn’t it? I went ahead and assigned our new friends stats, because there were so many different directions the story could have gone based on who escaped and who didn’t. It didn’t seem right to base everything on whether or not Small One rolled successfully.
> 
> On that note, I’m considering adding a party status to these author’s notes, that show the stats, age, and health of the characters. Yea or nay?


	16. Lecture

When Small One awoke, it was to a dull, agonising ache in her right side. Cracking open an eye and quickly shutting it again at the ensuing headache, Small One tried to recall what had happened. Clever One escaped, right? But something had stopped her from following him, and then her wing erupted into pain. Did Bold One escape, or was she pulled back in too?

Rolling herself onto her left side in order to try and alleviate the pain, Small One froze up as something warm, wet, and rough began stroking her tenderly. She opened her eyes, looking up to see Broken One, who was running her tongue along Small One’s back. There was a sadness in her gaze, mixed in with the despair. She paused briefly to purr a soft greeting, then resumed her grooming. Again, Small One became aware of just how large Broken One really was—her tongue alone was longer than Small One’s entire body.

Despite Small One’s lingering resentment towards Broken One, she decided that the pink tongue felt nice on her scales, and soothed the ache in her wing somewhat. Craning her neck to examine her injury, she saw that her right wing had been forced into the outstretched position, with twin pieces of wood holding it in place and wrapped in a soft white substance. She bared her teeth at the covering. It was probably intended to inhibit her somehow. She reached back to try and pull it off, but Broken One blocked her with her snout, crooning about how the wrapping was intended to help her heal.

Small One wasn’t too sure she trusted the older dragon about that, but Broken One had the size advantage and Small One wasn’t feeling her best. As Broken One resumed her grooming, she occasionally rumbled an admonishment to Small One. Trying to escape was a foolish thing to do. Only one young dragon had escaped during the miniature revolt, and the finest hunters had been sent out to recapture him. The dragonlings who weren’t killed or severely injured in the chaos had been taken to the Pit. When Small One inquired about what the Pit was, Broken One abruptly stopped talking. No amount of questioning chirps or frustrated growls could convince her to elaborate.

Eventually, the long-maned death-prey came by with food. Upon coming to Small One and Broken One’s cage, it entered, making the same cooing sounds it always did. After so much harsh barking and screaming, Small One found the softer tones soothing. Not that she would allow the death-prey to know that. It bent down in front of Small One, offering her a fresh-smelling piece of meat. She briefly considered refusing, but a glare from Broken One quickly disavowed her of that notion. After the humiliating experience of accepting a few bits of food straight from the death-prey’s hand, Small One lay back down on the scratchy bedding while the death-prey offered food to Broken One.

While Small One closed her eyes and tried to pretend she was back in the forest, or even the ravine, the death-prey chattered away to itself cheerfully. Suddenly, it began to gently touch Small One’s wing. Small One’s eyes shot open, and she turned her head to snap. The death-prey was a little quicker than Small One had been expecting, drawing its hand away. It began to make a strange, repeated noise that sounded as if it was choking, but its eyes lacked the fear one might associate with imminent death. It lightly tapped the end of Small One’s snout, pulling its hand away before she could bite it, and garbled happily at Small One in its ever-unintelligible tongue.

It waved a hand as it closed the cage door, leaving Small One alone with Broken One. Broken One’s hard gaze told Small One she had probably done something wrong again. When Broken One began to growl at her, she closed her eyes and pretended to be drifting off to sleep again. Broken One gave Small One a light nip on the back of the neck, apparently deciding that she couldn’t escape this lecture. Small One grumbled her annoyance, but stared up to look Broken One in the eyes as she began to rumble about how Small One should show more respect to the kind master who came with food.

The kind master, as Broken One insisted on calling it, made sure all dragons were well-fed, and did not allow any to suffer untreated wounds. It was the one who was healing Small One’s wing, and it was very likely the only reason Small One was not in the Pit after her little coup. Small One puffed air through her nose. A kind jailer was still a jailer. Once again, Small One tried to figure out what the Pit was, and why it was apparently something she should fear. Broken One fell silent for a moment, before explaining that the kind master had been praising Small One for her fighting spirit when it visited.

Small One groaned. Attempting to get information from Broken One reminded her of licking the stone of the ravine on her second day of life. The ache in her wing had come back with a vengeance, and though the lingering grogginess had faded, she didn’t feel up to pacing. With Broken One having decided to stop talking, and absolutely nothing to do to make the time pass, Small One began to idly chew at the scales on her front leg, desperate for some form of entertainment. Broken One’s eyes widened, and she gently removed Small One’s mouth from her leg using one blunted talon.

Small One grumbled back at her, but instead of glaring or lecturing, Broken One offered her own, far larger forelimb. Wondering what she was supposed to do with it, Small One noticed old tooth-marks, and exposed skin where scales had been pulled off. Tracing the old injuries with her talons, and enjoying the tactile sensation of Broken One’s rough scales, Small One began to slowly while away the long hours of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How severe is Small One’s wing fracture? (/10)  
> Small One rolls a 4.
> 
> Short, transitional chapter today. I had a long day today and didn’t have much energy left for writing. The dice have decided not to punish Small One too harshly for that awful roll yesterday, it seems. To the reviewer who asked if elements from Frontier or Explore would be introduced, the answer is very likely no to both. I’ve never played either, and I’m not a huge fan of Frontier’s design choices (I find that Frontier monsters and their lore/abilities doesn’t really mesh with the main series’ style very well). It’s possible I might include a Frontier reference or two in the future if I run dry of main series elements, but I wouldn’t hold my breath on it.
> 
> Also, as promised, character stats:
> 
> Small One (Party Leader, Alatreon, Severely injured, 1 week old)  
> Strength—5  
> Finesse—6  
> Element—1  
> Intelligence—10  
> Luck—10
> 
> Bold One (Lunastra, ???, 2 weeks old)  
> Strength—7  
> Finesse—4  
> Element—2  
> Intelligence—7  
> Luck—10
> 
> Clever One (Chameleos, ???, 2 years old)  
> Strength—4  
> Finesse—8  
> Element—5  
> Intelligence—15  
> Luck—10


	17. Fear

Small One must’ve fallen asleep at some point, because suddenly it was completely dark and Broken One was gone. In fact, Small One seemed to be the only dragon left in the cages. Normally there was a constant white noise of depressed dragons in the background, but at the moment all was eerily silent. Her wing twinged as she turned to stare out of the barred window. It was a clear night, and a few tiny pinpricks of light flickered in the sky. How she longed to see those stars from the outside!

Heaving herself to her feet and wincing at how stiff they were, Small One tried to reach the bars of the cage door to investigate, only to be pulled short by her chain. She sighed, sitting back down on her haunches for a moment. She didn’t feel like sleeping anymore, and Broken One wasn’t around to try and talk to. She rose back to her feet and began pacing anxiously. She took a few mouthfuls of the stagnant water, tried to rearrange the bedding into something resembling a good hide, and traced patterns in the dust with her talons. Eventually, the boredom grew too great, and she found herself contemplating chewing on her leg again.

As she nibbled at the scales of her wrist, she gradually became aware of a pungent scent in the air. It smelled like a corpse. As it grew stronger, Small One realised it didn’t just smell like a corpse. It smelled like a thousand corpses, all of which had been left to rot in the sun for a week. She wasn’t sure where it was coming from, but it was making her nose wrinkle in disgust. Burying her snout in her claws did nothing to block the smell. Nor did sticking her head under the dry grass. Plunging her snout into the water worked, but there was only so long she could hold her breath.

In her hapless attempts to shield herself from the awful smell, Small One almost missed the sound of a death-prey approaching. Its gait sounded oddly hurried, the footsteps echoing faster than Small One had ever heard them before. It was the one Broken One had called the ‘kind master’, and even through the thick corpse-stench, Small One could smell that something was off. Its eyes held a terrible gleam that Small One had never seen before. Fear, disgust, sorrow… All of those emotions and more reflected in the death-prey’s eyes. It flung the cage door open with unnecessary force, chattering in hushed tones.

It reached out to touch Small One, and she snapped at it reflexively. It quickly drew its hand back, but then its tone turned pleading, and fearful. It laid its hand flat on the ground, pointing a claw at Small One. Small One blinked. It wanted her to lie on the ground? Suspicious and ready to bite at a moment’s notice, Small One laid herself flat on her left side, eyeing the death-prey critically. It curved its mouth upwards and offered a happy-sounding noise. It glanced over its shoulder at the hallway, then turned back towards Small One. It made quite the show of closing its eyes, then, again, pointed to Small One.

Small One hissed. She would not close her eyes while in a vulnerable position! Did the death-prey think her stupid? At Small One’s hiss, the death-prey made a whining noise, underpinned by a sense of urgency. Small One found herself surprised at the fear in its tone. As much as she loathed to admit it, it had no real reason to fear her. So why was it afraid? Was there danger nearby? Was it possible that Broken One was right, and it truly did intend for her to be free from harm? Still, she would not close her eyes for it.

Just then, a second set of footsteps rebounded through the dark hall and empty cages, far way, but fast approaching. The death-prey made a quiet, angry-sounding noise, then turned back towards Small One. This time, its tones sounded strangled, but still pleading. It performed a dramatic set of motions in which it jabbed at its own chest, then pretended to fall with its eyes closed and tongue lolling out. Small One cocked her head. It wanted her to play dead?

The second death-prey was even closer now, and Small One decided that even if she wasn’t a true dragon anymore, it was probably worth paying attention to Broken One’s opinion just this once. Bracing herself in case of a sudden attack, Small One allowed herself to go limp, eyes closed and mouth hanging open. The kind master lightly stroked her behind the ear and made its hushed cooing noises. Small One kept her eyes closed even as she heard it stand up. Forcing herself to not scrunch up her nose at the horrible smell was proving difficult, but Small One held herself as loosely as possible, keeping her breath to a minimum.

The chatters and barks of the two death-prey tempted her to open her eyes, but she sensed that would be a bad idea. The voice of the kind master fought with the gruffer voice of another. The gruff-voiced one sounded annoyed, while the kind master was giving off an air of false sorrow. Small One was astounded that the other death-prey hadn’t heard the tremble in its voice or smelled its fear yet. After a few tense moments of the death-prey garbling at one another, Small One felt hands near her neck. 

It took all of her willpower to not lash out with her jaws at whoever was touching her, and she was glad she did. She felt a tugging on her collar, as it was gradually loosened until it fell off altogether. The sensation of cool air running over the stifled scales of her neck almost made her chirp from sheer joy, but she managed to contain herself. She let herself hang limply in the arms of the kind master as she was delicately picked up and securely carried off someplace. She cracked open one eye as much as she dared, hoping to look around and see where she was going, and see if she could spot Bold One.

She was carried through the tower’s maze of ramps and bends and corridors, just as before. The whole place was oddly, eerily still and silent. No death-prey roamed the halls in the low light. No dragons stood guard by the windows. The corpse smell had grown stronger, to the point that it was making Small One’s eyes water a little. The kind master and the other death-prey must have had a terrible sense of smell for it to not bother them.

Small One recognised the direction she was being taken. It was the path to the arena. As the kind master walked, Small One saw a few signs of the escape attempt littered throughout the corridors. A singed patch on the floor here, a claw mark on the wall there… How many of the dragonlings had died, in the end? And how many of them were sent to the Pit that Broken One was so afraid of? Small One slammed her eye shut at the sound of an approaching death-prey. It conversed with the kind master, in suspicious tones. The kind master responded with short, curt noises, and soon they were moving again. Small One stole a glance at the death-prey as it walked off. It was covered in a loose-skin which Small One assumed was supposed to be white, but was presently soaked in some dark substance. The corpse smell was too overwhelming for Small One to identify it.

Eventually, Small One and the kind master reached the arena. The kind master glanced around, before entering a small door off to the side. Just like the loathsome hallway of despair, the door lead to a corridor lined with dark cages, most of which were empty. There was one, near the end, however, which had a conspicuously large bedding pile. The kind master shifted Small One to one arm as it opened the door. It set Small One on the floor inside the cage and made a loud, un-hushed noise. Small One took that as her cue to stop playing dead, and she stood up and shook her head, relishing in the lack of rattling chains.

The kind master gestured to the huge pile of bedding, and Small One examined it warily. Suddenly, a head poked out of it, a blue head which Small One recognised despite the fresh scar running across its snout and through its left eye. It was Bold One! Small One squeaked excitedly and rushed over to Bold One. Bold One meowed back, drawing her head back into the pile of dry grass. Small One glanced at the kind master, but it just pulled the corners of its mouth up. There was still fear in its eyes. Apparently the danger had not yet passed, but it seemed to believe this was a safer place for Small One to be. It tossed more bedding into the cage and closed the door, putting one claw to its lips before leaving.

With the death-prey gone, Small One tried to burrow into the pile of grass to join Bold One. To her surprise, Bold One wasn’t alone inside the massive nest. A half-dozen other dragonlings were tangled up in a hollow in the centre, some sleeping and others drowsily growling or snapping at each other. None were much older than Small One herself, and a few had injuries, telling Small One they had been part of the escape attempt. Bold One purred softly, laying herself across a sleeping hardskin and red firemane, who twitched in their sleep but didn’t wake up.

Hidden within the huge nest, Small One found she felt secure enough to try and sleep. Broken One seemed to have been right about the kind master. It had removed her chain, and even though it brought her from one cage to another, it had united Small One with Bold One. Its judgement was at least solid enough that Small One would give it her tentative trust. Perhaps she could convince it to free her.

With that thought in mind, Small One laid her neck on Bold One’s back and soaked up her warmth, managing to ignore the corpse-stench just long enough to drift back into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How much has Small One’s wing healed? (/100%)  
> Small One rolls a 9.
> 
> Does Small One figure out what the kind master wants her to do? (Intelligence = 10)  
> Small One rolls a 12 (required 10). Success.
> 
> Elsewhere in the world…  
> Has Clever One found what he’s looking for? (Luck = 10)  
> Clever One rolls an 11 (required 10). Success.
> 
> Good job, Clever One! That good roll means big things are gonna happen soon, instead of being put off. No party stats tonight, I think I’ll only add those in when stats change, because they take up a lot of space down here.


	18. Furious One

Sudden light woke Small One from her slumber, her eyes snapping open. Around her, other dragonlings were stirring, including Bold One. Blinking, Small One realised with a start that the reason there was light was because the top of the nest had been ripped clean off. Shaking herself into awareness, Small One bared her teeth at the death-prey leering over her, examining its leathery hide for any possible weak points. It reached its arm into the tangle of dragonlings, aiming to grab the nearest firemane. Small One felt herself tipping to one side as the clearskin below her shifted into an aggressive posture, and she took the opportunity to leap at the leering death-prey.

It clearly hadn’t been expecting an attack, but as soon as Small One leapt for it, it raised a circular metal thing on its arm to block her strike. Small One found her claws couldn’t get a grip on the metallic surface, and she fell roughly to the ground, sending a burst of pain lancing through her injured wing. She rose up to her feet and launched herself at the death-prey’s leg, biting as hard as she could through the thick hide. To her dismay, she couldn’t bite deep enough to taste its blood. She struggled to stay clung to her prey as it flailed its leg wildly, hissing against the pain in her wing.

It was that moment that Bold One threw herself at the death-prey, taking it by surprise and attaching herself to its chest while it focused all of its efforts on Small One. It raised its metal plate to try and bash Bold One away, but the firemane merely grunted and dug her claws in deeper. Despite the fury of their combined assault, Small One couldn’t smell the death-prey’s blood, though it was possible that was because of the lingering corpse-stench in the air. The death-prey gave one particularly violent jerk of its leg, finally dislodging Small One and sending her flying towards the bedding pile. She was thankful that the soft grass and disgruntled hatchlings shielded her wing from the worst of the blow, but she still bit back a shriek at the sudden jolt.

The death-prey reached for a long claw at its side, raising it to try and free itself from Bold One, but it suddenly turned its head at a loud war-cry from the corridor. Before it could react, it was tackled to the ground by the kind master, whose face was red with rage. Despite its smaller stature, its surprise attack had caught the armed death prey off guard. Bold One took the opportunity to push off from her prey’s chest, rushing to the open cage door and calling at the other dragonlings. Small One didn’t need to understand her words to know what she wanted, and she ignored the pain in her wing to bound towards the cage door. The other dragonlings, transfixed by the grappling death-prey, shook themselves from their stupor and ran after Small One and Bold One.

The armed death-prey watched them run, and bellowed out some kind of command at the top of its voice, before wrenching its arms free and shoving the kind master off. Small One quickened her pace, heading straight for the door leading to the arena, just behind Bold One. The sounds of the armed death-prey chasing after them spurred her forward towards the light until she finally broke into the open air of the arena. To her dismay, the arena was occupied by a hard-shelled death-prey, its back bristling with pointed sticks just waiting to be launched. Small One glanced at the door, but her heart sank as more and more armoured death-prey began piling in, sealing off the only means of escape. Bold One lowered herself into an aggressive stance, and Small One joined her, even knowing that there was no getting through the tough shells. A few of the other dragonlings offered low growls and threat displays.

The death-prey raised its weapon and Small One coiled herself, ready to fight her way out or die trying. Suddenly, a familiar, high-pitched chirp from above caught her attention, and the death-prey’s too. Small One looked up, and her heart soared at the sight of a familiar, hornless clearskin, peering into the arena from the top of the stone walls. Various death-prey pointed their weapons at Clever One, including the one currently facing Small One. Clever One didn’t seem too concerned, with one eye fixed on the arena and the other pointed firmly at the sky. He chirped and stuck his tongue out just as a huge black shadow passed over the arena.

A deep, powerful, screeching roar shook the world, promising a fury unmatched by even the most fiery of volcanoes. Powerful wingbeats sent gusts of wind through the arena, and dragon and death-prey alike gazed in awe at the black figure hanging in the air. Glittering scales blacker than midnight covered its body, from the tip of its tail to the two massive, jagged horns that crowned its head. Broad wings that blotted out the sky cut through the air, and piercing orange eyes smouldering with fury glared out across the assembled death-prey as if they were little more than insects. Small One’s eyes lit up at the sight. Now _this_ was a dragon! An adult male of her kind, so terrible and mighty that surely even the gods themselves feared him. Clever One must have brought him here somehow.

Furious One swung his gaze across the arena, even as the death-prey readied their weapons. He reared up for a moment, before diving down with a shriek. He went straight through the metal netting as if it wasn’t even there, ripping it from its anchors. His impact left marks in the stone, and when he drew himself to his full height, Small One couldn’t help but flatten herself to the ground from the sheer _presence_ he exuded. He and Broken One may as well have been different species. Clever One crept into the arena along the wall, drawing himself up next to Small One and Bold One. He puffed his chest out as though he was proud of himself, and Small One couldn’t help but admit he had the right to be.

The death-prey whose faces Small One could see looked a strange mix of terrified and excited. She glanced back at the door to the cages and saw the kind master leaning out of the door, jaw hanging open and fear in its eyes. Furious One puffed air through his mouth, a swirl of flame dissipating in the air as he did. The death-prey pointed their weapons at him, and he offered a cruel sneer that exposed his massive fangs. With another thunderous roar, he charged straight at them, and the battle began in earnest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How much more has Small One’s wing healed? (/91%)  
> Small One rolls a 15 + 9 = 24% healed.
> 
> Does Small One fight off her attacker? (Strength = 5)  
> Bold One’s help affects Small One’s roll (+3)  
> The kind master’s help affects Small One’s roll (+2)  
> Small One rolls a 9 + 2 + 3 = 14 (required 15). Partial success.
> 
> Has Clever One successfully convinced Furious One to help him? (Intelligence = 15)  
> Clever One rolls an 11 (required 5). Success.
> 
> Clever One is clever. Lot of rolls this chapter. And all of them (mostly) worked out! This is another chapter that got cut short, partially because I was doing stuff this evening and didn’t have much time. But mainly because it would have been way, way too long otherwise.


	19. Corpse

When Furious One rushed headlong into the throng of death-prey, all hell broke loose. Projectiles flew, blades were drawn, and death-prey shouted and screamed at the massive dragon barrelling down on them. Furious One lowered his head and lifted the nearest death-prey onto his horns, flinging the confused hunter away with a casual toss of his head. Small One took a bit of vindictive pleasure in the sound of buckling metal when it hit the wall. The air around Furious One’s horns began to crystallise as he launched himself into the air, suddenly summoning a wave of ice and sending the death-prey scattering.

A few cowered under the force of his wingbeats, and he took the opportunity to swipe his tail and send them rolling across the ground, shaken but largely unharmed. Small One would have liked to join him in battle, but she got the distinct impression that she would have been a hindrance rather than a help. Glancing at the other dragonlings, they seemed utterly terrified of their saviour, with heads dipped low and bellies flattened on the ground. Even Clever One, who had summoned him to help, kept one wary eye on potential escape routes. Small One couldn’t blame them for fearing such absolute power.

Every now and then, black energy coursed through Furious One’s claws, and he eventually was forced to land and swipe at the hunters who had been trying to strike at his talons. One hunter managed to sneak up behind him and slice into his tail with a giant claw, taking him by surprise. Furious One huffed to the point where steam began flowing from between his teeth, and he suddenly reared back and screeched with unholy rage, lashing his powerful tail and summoning fireballs. The unfortunate death-prey who dared to challenge him was sent flying back, its armour burning. Some of the hunters had finally realised that they weren’t prepared for this battle, and had begun to drag their wounded companions away.

Furious One took to the skies again, clasping his talons together and summoning a bolt of lightning to cut off their escape. A death-prey armed with a device that launched metal pellets took aim at Furious One, the spray of metal bounding uselessly off his scales. He turned to spit fire at the one with the launcher, but as he did so, the others rushed away through the now unblocked doors. Small One’s keen eyes noticed the kind master sidling along the arena wall to sneak away with the others.

Snarling, Furious One charged at the death-prey with the device, snatching it up in his jaws before it had time to react. He bit down with a cruel grin, then flung the still-living death-prey at the wall, where the sound of snapping bones signaled its demise. He swung his head around, searching for more challengers, and seemed almost dismayed when he found none. Shaking his head to clear the lingering elemental energies from his horns, he lowered his gaze towards the huddled hatchlings. Small One glanced at the rest of the cowering young dragons, realising that none of them intended to thank him for helping them. The task fell to her, then. She chirped in sincere gratitude, and Furious One responded with a surprisingly soft rumble, offering to take her and the other hatchlings someplace far away.

Small One blinked at the whimpers from behind her, before mentally nipping herself. The other dragonlings had no idea what he was saying, of course. She turned to Bold One and made a squeak which she hoped sounded reassuring. Bold One’s eye held a glimmer of wariness, but she lifted her head to give a questioning meow to Furious One. To Small One’s surprise, Furious One bent his massive knees and lowered an outstretched wing, crooning for Small One to climb aboard. Small One wondered if riding on the back of an adult was really the respectful thing to do, but she’d never had Mother to teach her what was respectful and what wasn’t. If Furious One was offering it was probably alright.

She gingerly climbed up his wing and settled herself into place on his back, clutching the lethal-looking spines in his back. Bold One and the other dragonlings, still on the stony ground, examined Furious One critically, clearly thinking he wouldn’t be as accommodating to them as he was to a hatchling of his own kind. Clever One brazenly walked closer to Furious One and chirped. Furious One didn’t even move to harm him, but that didn’t seem to encourage anyone else to climb on his back. Small One growled softly. They didn’t have time for this! The death-prey could be back at any moment, and they’d probably be more prepared for a fight this time.

While Small One was trying to come up with a way to inform the other hatchlings that Furious One probably didn’t intend to smite them, a shout from the hallway caught her attention. Small One and Furious One turned their heads in unison, and Small One recognised the kind master. Its mane was slick and its breathing was ragged, but it waved its hands about frantically, garbling at the top of its lungs. Furious One pulled back his lips in a snarl, opening his mouth to blast the kind master, but a distorted, warbling cry stopped him in his tracks. The kind master began flapping its arms about, as though it was attempting to fly. Suddenly, it looked behind itself and threw itself to one side as an abomination emerged from the dark corridor.

It looked as if someone had taken a dragon’s corpse, pulled its skin off, ripped it limb from limb, and then hastily stuck it back together again. It had no skin, leaving bloody muscle and mismatched bones exposed. Plates of armour that Small One recognised as having come from hardskins covered its arms, legs, and face in patches. It seemed to lack eyes, and its jaw hung slack, with crooked, yellow teeth crowding its mouth. It was so massive it dwarfed even Furious One, and Small One wondered how it had managed to fit through the narrow hallways. It warbled again in its unnatural voice, and Small One fought back a retch as the corpse smell that had been lingering all night billowed forth at full strength.

Even Furious One seemed shaken by it for a moment, but he quickly issued his own warning roar and spread his wings as wide as they would go. In response, the walking corpse spread its broad, metallic wings and shrieked. Small One clutched Furious One’s back even tighter as he reared up and spat a fireball, landing a direct hit on the abomination’s face. For a moment, Small One thought Furious One had inflicted a critical wound. The thing’s metal faceplate was glowing red, and its bloody flesh was charred beyond recognition. Despite that grievous injury, the corpse gurgled and launched itself at Furious One. It was all he could do to hop back and avoid its strike, Small One clinging on for dear life.

Furious One tossed his head, and a bolt from the heavens struck the shambling corpse, electricity coursing through its metal wings and into its flesh. It didn’t even react to the attack, instead lunging for the clustered hatchlings. They quickly scattered and ran towards Furious One, evidently deciding that they’d take their chances with the walking disaster rather than try to battle the living corpse. Furious One stared at the corpse for a moment before suddenly snatching up as many hatchlings as he could fit into his talons, which turned out to be almost all of them. He lowered his head and gently scooped up Bold One and the remaining hardskin in his jaws, spreading his wings and taking off with such speed that Small One momentarily feared she’d lose her grip.

She turned her head and saw Clever One struggling to keep up, the distorted, gurgling cry of the abomination echoing from behind them. Clever One reached out with his oddly-shaped paws and just barely managed to grasp the tip of Furious One’s tail, folding his wings against the rushing wind and hoisting himself up onto Furious One’s back. He settled himself next to Small One and flicked his tongue out. Small One hunched herself down to try and shield herself from the wind. Furious One didn’t even seem to notice the extra weight in his back. His powerful wings sliced through the air and sent him upwards and away with terrifying speed. The tower was already looking farther away, the grassland below rapidly giving way to forest.

As Small One stared back at the tower, she realised with horror that the abomination had taken to the sky on its own wings, and was now hurtling towards them with a speed that belied its mismatched, shambling bulk. Small One squeaked an alert, and Furious One turned his head to look, giving Bold One and the hardskin a good view too. His eyes widened, and he gave a particularly strong beat of his wings to try and put more distance between himself and the corpse. To Small One’s horror, the thing was closing the gap. It wobbled and shook in the air, but what it lacked in elegance it made up for in raw strength. Its misshapen wings propelled it ever closer to Furious One, its singed face seeming not to bother it at all.

When it was right on his tail, Furious One gave a grunt, ordering Small One and Clever One to hold on. Small One managed to tighten her grip just before the adult dragon suddenly snapped his wings shut and dove, snout pointed squarely at the forest below. Small One’s stomach dropped out as the trees below rapidly grew larger. The abomination shrieked and tried to dive after Furious One, pulling its own wings into something resembling a closed position. As they dove, Furious One gradually reopened his wings, smoothing the dive into a glide that skimmed the treetops. Just as Small One thought and Furious One had clearly been hoping for, the corpse wasn’t anywhere near as maneuverable as Furious One was, and it crashed straight into the trees, snapping branches and sending feathered things flying into the air.

Furious One blasted forward for a few moments, before he tilted his wings and suddenly dipped below the treeline, just as the corpse burst back up into the open air. Small One’s heart pounded as Furious One expertly dodged the trees of the forest, avoiding clipping his wings on outstretched branches and keeping himself low enough to avoid the bottom of the canopy but high enough not to skid on the ground. Clever One squawked, suddenly having to dip his head to avoid a low hanging branch. Small One noticed that as they went, they were slowly losing speed, until finally Furious One splayed his wings and killed the last of his speed, skidding to a halt in the leaf litter. 

He opened his talons and several dazed dragonlings spilled out, groaning. When he lowered his jaw to release Bold One and the hardskin, the hardskin immediately toppled to the ground while Bold One glared at Furious One, clearly not pleased with being covered in his drool. Small One and Clever One leapt from Furious One’s back, and Furious One growled at them to be quiet. He stared through the canopy, searching for the corpse in the sky and examining the shade of the trees. After a few tense minutes, he relaxed. He turned towards the denser forest, heading away from the tower, and gestured with his head to follow. Small One wasted no time in falling into step next to him, keeping up with his long strides as he wove through the trees. 

The rustling of leaf litter told Small One that the rest of the hatchlings had decided to come along too, and soon Furious One and his gaggle of dragonlings had disappeared into the forest, free from the tower at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Furious One joins the party!
> 
> Furious One (Alatreon, healthy, 760 years old)
> 
> Strength—12  
> Finesse—12  
> Element—16  
> Intelligence—12  
> Luck—10
> 
> Does Furious One defeat the hunters? (Element = 16)  
> Furious One rolls a 5 (required 4). Success.
> 
> Does Furious One evade the living corpse? (Finesse = 12)  
> Hitchhiking hatchlings affect Furious One’s roll (-2)  
> Furious One rolls a 20 - 2 = 18 (required 8). Critical Success.
> 
> Extra long chapter tonight (the first one to break 2K words, actually!), because tomorrow’s chapter will probably be pretty short since I have a very busy and tiring day lined up. Furious One coming through with that critical success, though. Really proving his worth as a party member.


	20. Freedom

Furious One seemed to be having second thoughts about fleeing into the depths of the forest. Every now and then he’d come to a gap in the trees that was too small for him to fit through, and he’d glare at the offending plants before finding another way around. Small One was just happy to follow him around, relishing in the pure, clean air that smelled of light and earth and freedom. The soft, damp leaf litter pressed between her talons, sending shivers of delight up her spine. Small One noticed that as they went, they steadily lost dragonlings. The little creatures slunk off into the forest, evidently thinking that Furious One wasn’t going to continue being so accommodating.

Small One snorted. If they wanted to flee from the strongest protector they could possibly have, that was their decision. To her delight, Bold One seemed to have the nerve to stick with Furious One, and Clever One was wary but not frightened. Furious One paused to sniff at the air every now and then, and Small One mimicked him as best she could. When he was satisfied the corpse was not nearby, he continued lumbering along, trampling smaller shrubs and low-lying foliage and making slow progress. Every time he paused to check for danger, Small One spotted the quiet, contemplative rage in his eyes. He’d held that look of tranquil fury since escaping from the corpse, and Small One found she was feeling much the same way. A living corpse was an affront to everything alive in the world.

By the time the sun began to sink, all of the dragonlings had peeled off to live their lives, save for Bold One and Clever One. Furious One seemed not to notice or care. Suddenly, he paused. A low hiss to go and hide prompted Small One to crawl her way into a hollow beneath a tree, grumbling as the tattered binding on her injured wing caught against the rough bark. Clever One watched her, and positioned himself on the tree trunk above, turning his skin clear. Small One couldn’t help but notice the way the air shimmered around him more obviously than it had before. She could make out his outline, though she was sure anything that wasn’t specifically looking for him would miss him. Bold One’s single working eye scanned the area for an appropriate hiding spot, eventually settling on a particularly thick shrub.

Satisfied that his charges were concealed, Furious One padded off into the forest, scraping his shoulder on a particularly rough tree and growling at it. Time passed, and alarm calls sounded, the light growing lower and lower. Small One sniffed at the ground, enjoying the variety of scents. Turning a bit of soil and playing with the colourful, inedible bugs she found buried beneath, Small One whittled away the time until Furious One came back. When Furious One eventually crashed through the trees, there was a small, hoofed thing dangling from his mouth, freshly killed. He dropped it, and, after shearing a large chunk off for himself, settled onto the ground and left the carcass sitting, staring expectantly at Small One.

Small One blinked. He had gone out and hunted for her? She scrambled towards the prey, enjoying the coppery scent of a fresh kill. The meat was soft and easy to swallow, and Small One let the prey’s warm blood run over her tongue as she ate. The warmth and flavour of the fresh kill was a far cry from the tough, dry strips of meat she’d been offered in the tower. When she had eaten her fill, she took a step back and resumed digging in the dirt, enjoying the smell and sensation of the earth on her snout. Bold One gingerly stepped forward towards Furious One’s kill. When Furious One made no move to smite her for it, she dug in, keeping her eye on the larger dragon in case he suddenly changed his mind. 

Clever One didn’t seem interested in the carcass, instead flicking his tongue out to catch unsuspecting bugs as they flew past him. Night had fallen by the time all three dragonlings had finished eating. Furious One scooped up the remains in his jaws and swallowed what was left in one massive bite. He lowered himself into a rather constricted resting position, grumbling at the lack of space. Small One gave a wide yawn, before glancing back at the small, dark hollow she’d hidden in. It would make an ideal and safe place to sleep… but it was small and cramped. A devious leer played on her face.

She rushed towards Furious One, climbing over his thick tail and pressing herself against his muscular chest. He looked down at her with a hint of amusement in his eyes as she curled up next to him. Nothing would attack her as long as he was there, so why force herself to sleep in some small, dark, cold hole?

She’d had enough of small and dark to last a lifetime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No rolls tonight. Sorry this one’s so short and uneventful. Just like I predicted, I’m absolutely wrecked after the day I had. In fact I spent a lot of time blinking at the screen and trying to remember how to spell while writing this...


	21. Flight

Furious One’s loud snores stirred Small One from slumber. She blinked the sleep from her eyes and glanced around. All the forest’s wildlife were gone, probably scared away by Furious One. Bold One was curled up under her bush, and Clever One’s silhouette was perched on a low-hanging tree branch. The sun hadn’t come up yet, but the sky was lightening, the last stars being chased away. Small One winced and flattened her ears at a particularly loud rumble from Furious One. She had no idea how Bold One and Clever One had managed to stay sleeping through the horrible noise.

Gingerly stepping over Furious One’s tail, Small One padded along the forest floor, trying to be as quiet as possible (though she doubted she’d wake anyone up if they could keep sleeping through Furious One). Her tongue was dry, and she licked at the roof of her mouth in a vain attempt to wet it. Dewdrops had gathered on a few leaves, but licking them wasn’t quite enough for Small One. Keeping a close eye on the cluster of sleeping dragons, Small One wandered off, looking for something more substantial to drink.

She wasn’t too sure if this forest was the same one she’d found after leaving the ravine, or of it was a different one. Either way, the tiny brook she’d frequented before was nowhere to be found. To her dismay, there wasn’t any water nearby, but there was fun to be had in chasing feathered prey around. She had no interest in trying to eat them, but scaring them was amusing, and she needed to do something to entertain herself while waiting for the others to wake up. She couldn’t properly search for water without losing sight of Furious One, and it didn’t seem wise to abandon someone who was willing to hunt for her and carry her places.

The sky was fully bright by the time Furious One lifted his head and opened his mouth in a cavernous yawn, stretching his legs as much as he could and shaking out his wings before standing up. Upon hitting his horns on a tree branch, he snapped at the air and growled. He glanced down at Small One as she approached, then lowered a wing for her to climb up. As soon as she was settled on his back, he gave a loud croon, causing Bold One to snap awake. She cocked her head at the lowered wing, before deciding that he hadn’t killed her yet and may not have been planning to and running up to join to Small One on his back.

Clever One approached cautiously, head dipped low. Small One understood his trepidation. Furious One didn’t seem to mind having a pair of female hatchlings around, but he mightn’t continue to be so tolerant of a juvenile male. Thankfully, Clever One’s wariness was unnecessary. Furious One extended his wing, and Clever One graciously took the offer. With all three younglings on his back, Furious One began to walk through the forest, heading back towards the tower with his gaze at the canopy. When at last he found space to spread his wings and a gap in the leaf cover, he leapt into the air, leaving the ground behind.

Small One clung tighter to his back, trying to avoid looking at the ground as it rushed away at blistering speed. She flexed her left wing, noting that her right wing’s binding was looking worse for the wear and starting to come loose. It didn’t ache quite as badly as it did before, though attempting to move it sent spikes of pain shooting up and down the wingarm. Her wings were still so fragile and small. She couldn’t imagine ever using them to soar through the air like Furious One. Once he reached his desired soaring height, Furious One levelled off into a glide, catching the thermals and travelling at a more reasonable pace.

On the horizon, Small One could just barely make out the tower through the morning haze. She wondered what had become of all the dragons who remained there. The night the kind master moved her, all of the adult dragons had been missing. Briefly, Small One considered that they might have escaped, but she couldn’t imagine Broken One shaking her meekness to rebel against her captors. It begged the question of what had happened to all of them. For that matter, why had the kind master made her play dead, then moved her to what seemed to be an attempt at a hiding spot? It had helped fight off the death-prey that came to take her the next day, too. She supposed she should be grateful to it, particularly since it seemed like it would be in trouble with its packmates.

She glanced down at Furious One, watching how he flexed his powerful wing muscles every now and then to maintain height. He kept his wings angled to catch as much free altitude as possible, then adjusted as necessary to steer or climb. Small One found herself studying his movements. She would have liked to try and mimic him, but with one wing immobilised and the rushing wind trying to tear her from her perch, she kept her own wings to herself. Bold One seemed to be having similar thoughts if the way her wings were twitching was any indication.

Small One glanced over Furious One’s shoulder and was surprised to see that they were no longer above the forest. Instead, the ground was much steeper and craggier, with sparser vegetation. A huge split in the earth with a streak of blue running through it set her heart racing. It was her ravine! She wondered if Mother had ever come back for her, but shook her head. Mother would have been there to greet her when she hatched if she intended to care for her properly. Furious One soared straight above the ravine, not even pausing, towards the rocky mountains beyond. Small One wasn’t too sure where he was going—her limited experiences consisted only of the ravine, forest, and tower—but since it was away from the tower, she was more than happy with whatever the destination.

The mountains looked quite distant, but Furious One kept his pace throughout the day, even as the sun reached its peak and began to sink once more. Eventually, when the sun was low and the air was growing colder, Furious One angled his wings downwards, descending in a shallow, gentle glide. By now, the mountains were much closer, probably within a day’s flight. The ground below looked to be a sparse, rugged rockfield, with little to no shelter from the elements, but to Small One’s relief, there was a stream running near where she thought Furious One would land. When Furious One landed, he bent down to allow his passengers to hop off, with Small One bolting for the stream as soon as her claws touched the rock.

The water was so much purer and cleaner than the stagnant sludge in the tower. It was so sweet on Small One’s tongue that she briefly wondered if it was even water she was drinking. She was soon joined by both Bold One and Clever One. Stealing a glance at Bold One, her slash seemed to be healing, though her left eye was still milky. Furious One wandered over to the river and lapped at it with his long tongue, his snout far too big to dip into the water like the three dragonlings. With his thirst slaked, he seemed to decide that right there was a good place to sleep, lying on his side and folding his wings. The sun was gone and the air was growing colder by the second. Small One wasted no time in pressing herself against Furious One.

Bold One and Clever One both looked around, considering their options, before joining Small One in cuddling up to Furious One. Small One pressed her face into Bold One’s short mane, relishing in the warmth she was producing and offering a happy chirp. Clever One laid his head across Bold One’s back, and Bold One gave a playful growl but didn’t move to dislodge him. Furious One crooned at the trio and draped his great wing over them, blocking out the cold wind. Small One watched his gaze light up with that tranquil fire once again, and gave a questioning squeak.

Furious One’s only reply was to growl about how the living corpse meant it might be time for the death-prey to be taught a lesson or two about respecting the laws of nature. Small One went to ask him about what he meant, but all that escaped her jaws was a yawn. Resolving to ask him when the sun rose again, Small One burrowed her snout back into Bold One’s mane and drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How much more has Small One’s wing healed? (/76%)  
> Small One rolls a 16 + 24% = 40% healed.
> 
> Another transitional one tonight. I’m trying not to rush things too much, as much as I’d like to get to the next major plot point. I’m of two minds about where to go from here, so hopefully I can make up my mind by tomorrow.


	22. Crater

The next morning, it was Furious One poking her with his snout that woke Small One up. He directed her to the stream, where she drank her fill. Furious One seemed anxious to get going. As soon as Bold One and Clever One had finished drinking, he was extending his wing for them to climb up. He was in the air before their snouts even had time to dry.

Once again, Furious One’s rapid ascent set Small One’s heart fluttering. The ground fell away below her, the stream becoming a tiny line in a vast, rugged expanse. Furious One tore through a cloud, his wings sending the vapour swirling in the wind. The water condensing on her scales was cool and fresh, and Small One took a deep, wet breath, enjoying the purity of the high air. Furious One seemed to be working his wings a lot more than before, and Small One wondered if it was because the wind wasn’t as strong today. Every now and then he’d hold his wings out and coast free altitude before dipping into a glide. Small One found she instinctively knew about the sky and its workings. Some day, her own wings would bear her on the warm thermals. She couldn’t wait.

Furious One continued flying towards the mountains in the distance, the peaks growing brighter and more defined as the flight went on. Small One observed the ground with interest, the rockfield transitioning to become a savanna, and the savanna filling with water to become a sprawling marsh. Soaring at a lower altitude, Small One spotted a lesser beast, a red one of the same variety as the one which had flown past her on her second day of life. Its wings sported bold patterns, billowing as it flew along in search of prey. Furious One was soaring to conserve his energy, allowing the red flier to pace him. Small One watched with interest as it suddenly dove, talons outstretched, to fall on some unfortunate prey.

It struck her as odd that she’d only ever seen two wyverns in her life, both of the same kind. She got the sense there should be more of them around. Had the death-prey gotten to them too? That thought reminded her that she needed to ask Furious One what he’d meant about teaching them a lesson. She squeaked her question to him, and though his response was muffled by the rushing wind, she understood most of what he meant. By the sounds of it, he intended to seek aid from as many free dragons as he could, to exact vengeance upon the death-prey for their arrogance. He seemed to believe that the best place to start would be in the imposing mountains to which he was flying. Many dragons lived there, and the death-prey could not reach them except by easily-destroyed metal fliers.

Small One’s small stature and injured wing meant she wasn’t that useful in a fight, but Furious One’s words filled her with inspiration. They would punish the death-prey for their disregard for the ways of nature. Perhaps if she could grow just a little bit bigger first…

The day wore on, and the mountains came ever closer. The swamp sprouted trees, dried out, and became another forest, this one even thicker than the previous. Eventually, Furious One began climbing, scooping at the air with his wings in strong, even beats, trying to maintain altitude against the fierce winds that swirled around the mountains. After catching a particularly good gust of wind, Furious One tipped his wings forward in a shallow dive, skimming the peak of a mountain. Small One’s eyes widened. Past the first ridge, a great crater opened up, full of thriving vegetation with a great lake at the center. The shapes of wyverns and dragons flitted about in the sky, and a huge, scaly beast breached the clear, sparkling water of the lake before diving back in.

The walls of the crater were not that steep, but Small One noticed a rusty red, oddly spiky hill off to one side, which Furious One was aiming for. When he came in for a landing, it was all Small One could do to not bolt off and explore the crater, but leaving Furious One didn’t seem to be the wisest thing to do when she’d already seen so many potential predators. Bold One was similarly enamoured, but Clever One looked more like he was familiar with the area, leading Small One to suspect he’d been here before. Furious One began to walk towards the cream-coloured base of the hill, with Small One and Clever One following and Bold One reluctantly coming along too after another moment of excited staring.

Small One wasn’t too sure what Furious One wanted as he lead her along the mountain’s base, walking until it sloped downwards and more-or-less tapered to a blocky point. Small One chirped quizzically at Furious One, but he ignored and crooned to the mountain. Small One wasn’t quite sure what he was doing talking to mountains.

Then the mountain growled back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How much more has Small One’s wing healed? (/60%)  
> Small One rolls a 15 + 40 = 55% recovery.
> 
> Fun typos time: I almost let Small One be anxious to ‘explode’ the crater. Not exactly how I’d treat an apparent paradise… I almost didn’t catch it, and it made me laugh when I spotted it. Another short one, for which I apologise. But I couldn’t resist stopping on that line.


	23. Fearless One

Small One whipped her head back and forth, looking to see if there was some other creature hidden nearby who had growled. But then a giant eye lazily opened near the base of the mountain. The growl sounded again, a deep, primal noise that Small One felt more than heard. The massive round pupil pointed at Furious One, and Small One was astounded at the complete lack of fear. It was not the look of something that was confident it could win in a fight. It was the look of something that was confident that there wouldn’t even be a fight in the first place. It suddenly opened its jaws in a massive, gaping yawn, giant pink tongue lapping at the roof of a mouth so huge that Small One could have mistaken it for a cave.

It rumbled again, a quizzical noise, and Furious One dipped his head low and crooned again. The massive eye stared dully at him for a moment, as though it was considering ignoring him and going back to sleep. Small One simply couldn’t believe how nonchalant it was. The gods themselves may have feared Furious One, but this living mountain certainly didn’t. Yet there was a certain gentleness in its gaze. It knew it was immense and powerful beyond belief, but it seemed content to be left alone. Small One felt quite safe walking up to it and sniffing at the thick, armoured scales around its lower jaw, joined by Bold One and Clever One who seemed to have the same idea. It had the softer, muted scent of a female about it, and inwardly Small One wondered why she was bothering to conceal her scent when nothing would dare attack her anyway.

Furious One growled at Fearless One, a little more harshly this time, and Fearless One turned her gentle gaze towards him with a bit more alertness. Furious One, lowering his voice to a pitch as close to Fearless One’s as possible, called to her. Even with his voice as low as he could feasibly get it, he must have sounded to Fearless One the way that Small One sounded to him: young, inexperienced, and bad at communicating. Still, Fearless One seemed to get the message, leading Small One to wonder when and why Furious One had learned the mountain’s language.

Pressing four immense feet that Small One hadn’t seen before into the ground and pushing herself up on short, stocky legs, Fearless One stood up from her resting place, somehow becoming even more imposing. The black tips of the spikes along her back split the sunlight and cast long shadows over Furious One and his charges. Creamy belly scutes covered in green stains left a huge swathe of flattened grass behind. Then, after a moment of flexing her claws, she suddenly lifted her front legs from the ground, somehow managing to lift her bulk onto her hind legs, sitting back on her haunches and allowing her forelimbs to hang by her belly.

Now that Fearless One was standing up, Small One could barely even lean back far enough to see her head against the glare of the sun. Fearless One shifted her weight, causing the ground to tremble, pulling her head back as she did so. Suddenly, she thrust her head upwards, her throat inflating as she roared in a voice so loud and powerful Small One felt it reverberate through her entire being, shaking her to her core and knocking the breath from her lungs. Trees shook and feathered things scattered into the air. Fearless One let the roar trail off, and for a moment all was still.

Then, one by one at first, then in twos, then threes, dragons began to fly towards her, emerging from the crater’s foliage or coming over the mountains. There were hardskins, firemanes, and clearskins, and quite a few dragons Small One had never seen before, like a serpentine beast that travelled through the air with ease despite lacking wings, and a sleek, silver-scaled dragon with oddly-shaped wings. There were even a few of her own kind scattered throughout the flock, the other dragons giving them a wide berth. The dragons landed at Fearless One’s feet, and Small One found herself being crowded closer to Bold One and Clever One, doing her best to keep close to Furious One.

The dragons stared expectantly at Fearless One, before quickly scrambling to get back when she started leaning forward. When she landed back on her front feet, it caused a miniature earthquake, sending a few stones tumbling down the walls of the crater. As soon as she was back on all fours she folded her legs beneath her again, returning to her previous sleeping position. She blinked at Furious One, clearly expecting him to do something. With only a little bit of trepidation, Furious One strode up to Fearless One’s snout, and gingerly placed his claw upon the horn on the end of her nose. A low rumble of curiosity seemed to encourage him to keep going, and he opened his wings and bounded onto her snout, eliciting a small sound from Fearless One.

Using the mountain dragon as a perch, Furious One began chattering at the crowd of assembled dragons. Small One, uncomfortably pressed between two clearskins, Bold One, and Clever One, couldn’t hear everything he said, but she caught enough. He was telling the story of the death-prey and their towers, and of the living corpse that had pursued him when he saved Small One and the rest of the dragonlings. He announced his intent to lead a full-on assault against the death-prey as punishment for their lack of respect. A few of Small One’s kind began roaring their agreement, but unfortunately for Furious One, no one else could understand what he was saying.

Blank stares all around and the awkward rustling of wings were his only answer from the vast majority of the crowd. Even Fearless One was crossing her eyes to look at him with confusion. Furious One growled and raised a talon as if to stomp it, before seemingly remembering what he was standing on and thinking better of it. He paused for a moment, staring at the sky as if it could help him figure out what to do. In what Small One assumed was his best impression of a firemane, Furious One began to growl and snarl slowly. A few of the firemanes seemed to understand, but the rest cocked their heads and kept staring. Small One supposed that Furious One was speaking with a rather heavy accent.

One particular firemane, a red one with exceptionally long horns, shoved his way to the front of the crowd and began repeating Furious One’s message, but faster and with the more guttural voice of an actual firemane. Now understanding the idea, the firemanes started roaring along as well, getting just as riled up as Small One’s kin. Furious One repeated this exercise in the harsher, screeching tones of the hardskins, and once again a hardskin got the message and relayed it to the rest. And so on it went, until all of the dragons had been whipped up into a frenzy and the air was full of beating wings and Small One had to duck to avoid lashing tails. Even Fearless One joined in, offering her own earthshaking roars.

Small One added her own little voice to the chorus. The death-prey had abused her and the other dragons and thought themselves the masters of all. The dragons were going to show them just how wrong they were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does Furious One get his message across to the other elders? (Intelligence = 12)  
> Furious One rolls an 11 (required 8). Success.
> 
> We’re kind of late tonight because I got into an enthusiastic conversation with a friend about Goblin Slayer.
> 
> Fun fact: I had a really hard time naming Fearless One, to the point where even brainstorming with a friend didn’t help. I almost named her “Fears Nothing” as a nod to the giant dinosaur Dreadnoughtus, and because it got the point across a bit better (I think ‘Fearless One’ sounds a little too much like the name of a hero rather than someone who literally fears nothing, but I couldn’t think of anything better), but I decided to stick with my naming scheme out of a desire for consistency.


	24. Grass

By the time all of the enthusiastic roaring had subsided, Furious One was already barking orders into the crowd. Small One had to press herself flat against the ground from the force of all the beating wings as dragons took off, flying every which way. Furious One directed some to go to the far reaches of the world and gather as many free dragons as they could, while others were told to try and figure out how to communicate with the wyverns to get their help as well.

To Small One’s disappointment, Furious One had no tasks for her, nor for Bold One, Clever One, or any of the other younglings that had come to listen to his speech. Instead, he told her to stay close to Fearless One, before spreading his own wings and taking off over the mountains. Left in the suddenly silent crater, Small One stared awkwardly at her companions for a moment. With nothing to do, the other dragonlings began to putter back off into the clumps of trees and lakeshore they’d come from. Fearless One gave another great yawn before resting her head on the ground and closing her eyes to go back to sleep.

Bold One walked up to Fearless One and began pawing at her tough red scales, giving them experimental swats with claws outstretched. Fearless One’s eyes slid open again to stare at the little blue firemane, but there was no anger in her gaze, only amusement. She had nothing to fear from Bold One, after all. While Bold One busied herself playing with Fearless One, Clever One melted into the air as best he could, skulking off towards a nearby cluster of bushes and flicking his tongue out to catch any bugs that were close enough to wander past. Seeing him hunt reminded Small One that she hadn’t eaten since Furious One killed the prey in the forest, and that thought brought her hunger to the forefront of her mind.

Furious One had said to stick close to Fearless One, but if she kept the mountain dragon in sight it would be alright, surely. It had been too long since she’d hunted for herself, between her imprisonment and Furious One’s care. She flexed her talons and sniffed at the air in hopes of finding something small enough to overpower. Hopefully it wouldn’t taste bad like the swimming prey, or fight back like the long prey. A sharp scent caught her nose, coming from the long grass just past the bushes Clever One was hunting in. Following the curious scent, Small One trotted over to the long grass and stuck her head in. The wide green blades towered over her, blocking her view of Fearless One and of the sky.

Small One thought about going back, but her hunger drove her to push further into the blades. The sharp scent was nearby, but there was a new scent now, warm and musky. It smelled much more tantalising than the sharp smell, and she elected to follow that one instead. Pushing through the grass made for slow progress. Small One’s injured wing was still forced into an outstretched position by the increasingly tattered binding on it. It prevented her from squeezing through the narrow gaps in the foliage, forcing her to flatten sections with her body to make a trail. She growled lightly at all the noise she was making. Her prey would be long gone by the time she got close to it.

A noise behind her perked her ears, and she paused with her head up. To her surprise, Bold One had elected to join her on her hunt. She put her snout to the ground and sniffed, before walking in front of Small One and weaving her way through the grass with minimal noise. Small One huffed at Bold One’s showing off, but she couldn’t deny that Bold One’s broad paws made for much stealthier movement. Small One held herself as still as possible, not wanting to disrupt the hunt when she clearly wasn’t getting anywhere by herself.

A few moments later, a squealing noise rose into the air and the scent of blood trickled in from ahead. After noisily crashing through the undergrowth towards the smell, Small One discovered Bold One with a long-eared furry thing hanging limp from her jaws. 

The furry thing was quite large, at least compared to Small One and Bold One. Blood was seeping into its beige fur from a wound on its neck, with some more blood staining Bold One’s small tusks. She dropped the kill onto the grass, where it landed with a meaty noise that made the grass rustle. Bold One lowered her jaws to try and dig into her prey, but stopped short, tugging at its fur. Small One watched her try to figure out whether the fur was alright to eat with amusement, when a rustling in the grass caught her attention. Scanning the surrounding grass, Small One was startled to see not one, not two, but five separate sets of yellow eyes staring at her and Bold One from the grass.

Immediately Small One went on the defensive, spreading her left wing and raising her head up with teeth bared. The sharp smell was coming from the pack stalkers, not anything she could eat. She spread her forelegs and hissed at the nearest set of watching eyes, tossing her head to show off her horn stubs. Bold One watched her threat display before noticing the stalkers and shifting into her own intimidating stance, her prey between her legs. One of the stalkers crept closer to Small One, allowing her to make out a blue face with a yellow beak and a small, dull orange crest. She snarled at the pack hunter, and it quickly withdrew its head to stand back at a distance. Bold One began beating her wings, sending small ripples of wind through the grass.

Small One would have liked to copy her, but she couldn’t move her right wing without hurting it, and beating only one wing would be a fine way to inform her adversaries that she was injured. Instead, she opened her wings slightly wider and held them more upright, ignoring the complaints from her right wing. She wished her horns were bigger so tossing them would be more intimidating, and perhaps so she could summon an element of some sort. The pack hunters continued to watch, one of them briefly making a pass at Bold One’s kill, but a snarl and a gnashing of teeth drove it back off.

After a few tense minutes of the baby dragons staring down the pack hunters, the beaked faces and blank, yellow eyes melted back into the vegetation, leaving Small One to relax her stance and take a few deep breaths. The pack stalkers must have wanted Bold One’s prey, and decided that a fight with two young dragons wouldn’t be worth the effort. Glancing around with her single working eye, Bold One relaxed too, and resumed the task of trying to figure out how to eat her kill. Small One kept her wary eyes and ears on the surrounding grass, watching out in case the pack hunters returned.

Eventually, Bold One figured out how to remove bloody clumps of fur from her long-eared prey, and she shoved her snout into the carcass ravenously, pulling chunks of meat from the bones and swallowing them down like she had never seen food before in her life. Gradually, her pace slowed, until she settled down on her haunches and began to groom her muzzle, licking her paws and wiping them on her face to clean the blood. She looked up at Small One, who was still keeping watch, then nudged the carcass towards her with a paw. Small One blinked, but accepted the gift. She hadn’t helped to hunt it in the slightest, but perhaps helping to defend it counted for something. It had cooled in the standoff with the pack stalkers, but it was fresh and tender, even if Bold One had eaten all the best parts herself.

After a few moments, Small One had eaten her fill, and Bold One was finished grooming. Small One gave a few half-hearted licks at her snout and decided that was enough cleaning for her, Bold One casting her a sidelong glance. Small One turned and examined the trail of destruction she’d left on her hunt. At the very least, it made for an easy guide back to where Fearless One was sleeping. Rustling grass behind them told Small One that the pack hunters had come to scavenge what was left of Bold One’s kill, but they could have the scraps. As soon as she broke into the sunlight she cast her gaze to the sky, hoping to see gathered dragons. But it seemed that none of the dragons Furious One had sent out were back yet.

Running over to Fearless One, Small One was surprised to see Clever One peacefully snoozing along with her, perched on her snout. He wasn’t the only one. It seemed some other hatchlings and juveniles thought Fearless One was the perfect place to drift off in the warm sunlight, leaving the mountain dragon covered in sleeping hatchlings. She didn’t seem to be bothered by it, if her even breathing and relaxed posture were anything to go by. Small One looked up at the sky, and saw that the sun was still a while away from sinking. It wasn’t time to sleep yet, but if all of those dragons wanted to be lazy and waste the day, that was their decision. 

Licking at the dry roof of her mouth, she wondered if Furious One would object to her dashing to the massive lake to take a drink. She chirped to Bold One and angled her head to the lakeshore. Bold One seemed to understand, eagerly bounding towards the sparkling water. Recalling the scaly beast that had leapt from the water when Furious One was gliding in, Small One approached in a more measured pace, but still excited. She had never seen so much water in one place before, and the deep blue colour of it was entrancing. She lapped at the water alongside Bold One, watching little swimming things dart about in the shallows.

She took a few steps into the water, enjoying the lack of pull in the still lake. The movements of her feet and tail created intriguing patterns in the surface and sent bubbles floating to the top. Small One spent quite a while cheerfully splashing about in the water, enjoying how the light refracted off of the water as the sun began to sink. Bold One wasn’t nearly so enthusiastic to get in the lake, eyeing it suspiciously and snorting in annoyance when Small One splashed water on her snout. When the light grew low, Small One decided it would probably be best to return to Fearless One, as much as she would have liked to play in the lake a while longer.

The other dragons were all still sleeping, so Small One scrambled her way up onto Fearless One’s snout, the massive dragon only making the slightest of sounds in response. Bold One followed her, and once again Small One pressed herself into Bold One’s warm mane and let the heat lull her to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does Small One intimidate the pack hunters? (Luck = 10)  
> Bold One’s presence affects Small One’s roll (+2)  
> Small One rolls a 10 + 2 = 12 (required 10). Success.
> 
> I kind of debated whether or not to add a modifier to a luck roll, but decided that given the context it made sense. Small One would have succeeded anyway, so it doesn’t matter too much I suppose.


	25. Plan

For the next few weeks, Small One fell into a rather comfortable routine in the crater. She would wake at sunrise, slake her thirst in the lake, and then either hunt with Bold One or play with Fearless One and Clever One, before returning to sleep with Fearless One each evening. The crater was akin to a paradise for her, with small, easy-to-catch prey and thick vegetation to hide from predators. The pack hunters were something of an annoyance, but all it usually took to drive them off was a sharp glare and bared fangs. The binding on her injured wing gave up and fell off after a while, but to Small One’s delight, she could fold and open her wing with minimal pain. Attempting to flap it was still out of the question, however.

Bold One’s gash healed up quite nicely, leaving only a thick line of discoloured scales behind. Unfortunately, it seemed her eye could not be saved. She didn’t seem to be too concerned by her impeded sight, hunting and playing with as much fervour as Small One. As the days wore on, Small One started noticing subtle changes in her own stature. Rubbing dead scales from the tips of her horns left them sharper and just a little bit longer. The two tiny tusks on her lower jaw were ever so slightly thicker and longer, and she noticed that Furious One looked a little less gigantic each time she saw him. 

Furious One landed in the crater every now and then, often with a new dragon in tow. Occasionally he returned sporting fresh scars, but he never seemed to sustain any truly permanent damage. The other dragons that Furious One had sent out returned too, and gradually the crater grew more and more crowded. Small One hadn’t ever realised there were so many different dragons besides her own kind and the hardskins, firemanes, and clearskins. More of the sky-swimmers were gathering in the air each day, annoying Small One with all the sky water they brought with them. The fast silverscales often made loud booming noises when they arrived, leading Fearless One to glare at them whenever she saw them. Small, wingless dragons with a mystical aura and one spiral horn had taken to wandering around in the long grass, and a horrifying floating monstrosity with many tentacles loomed above the crater ominously, though it never moved to attack.

According to Furious One, there were many other dragons who simply couldn’t congregate at the crater because of where they lived, like the great beasts that dwelled in the water, and the rocky, legless dragons that swam in the ground. Still, Furious One seemed confident that they too had pledged to battle against the death-prey. Despite the best efforts of the dragons assigned to the task, it seemed the wyverns had no intention of joining the battle. Attempts to communicate with them resulted in blank stares or outright dismissal, even hostility in some cases. Furious One didn’t seem too concerned by their refusal, given the growing number of dragons taking up residence in the crater. Their presence made prey a bit scarce for Small One, but at the very least there was something of a truce between species and she didn’t need to worry about one of them trying to eat her.

One day, while Small One played by the lakeshore with Clever One, Fearless One’s mighty roar shook the crater. Last time, Small One remembered, that had been a message for all the dragons to gather to her. Glancing at Clever One, she rushed back over to Fearless One, flattening her ears against the boom of an approaching silverscale. The area around Fearless One’s legs was much more crowded than it had been last time, and the mountain dragon was staring intently at the ground as though she was trying to figure out how to return to all fours while squishing as few dragons as possible. Fortunately, a sharp shriek from Furious One got the crowd to back away and make room for Fearless One.

With all eyes now on Furious One, he began addressing the crowd, with the aid of various translators. He believed there were sufficient dragons to stage their very first assault on the death-prey, to announce to their adversaries that they would no longer tolerate being imprisoned and used as mere beasts of burden. He claimed to have picked out a simple target to start with: a metal flying beast had been spotted near the rim of the crater. The dragons would lead a coordinated assault on it, something which would definitely get the death-prey’s attention. Small One felt a spike of disappointment as she realised that bringing down a metal flying beast would naturally require her to be able to fly. Seemed she’d be sitting this one out. Clever One seemed to sense her feelings, letting his tongue dangle in what Small One had learned was a gesture of sympathy.

Furious One began explaining the specifics of the plan and asking for volunteers, but Small One’s mind was elsewhere. Would she be able to watch the attack? She’d have to find a way to the rim of the crater for that, and she’d have to press herself against the howling winds and sky water that the hardskins and sky-swimmers liked to summon. Perhaps Fearless One could lift her to the edge of the crater? Or would Fearless One be needed for the attack? She couldn’t fly, but she was tall enough when she stood up that she probably could be of some use. Unlike Small One, who couldn’t fly and was also too small to be of any real use.

All of a sudden Small One was snapped from her thoughts by raucous roaring all around her, realising that Furious One and his translators had finished explaining the details of the attack. The crater was a whirlwind of activity, with Furious One and some particularly lithe-looking hardskins taking off, a silverscale and sky-swimmer following them. Were they heading out to begin the assault already? Small One wove through the dissipating crowd, following Furious One and his entourage from the ground. When she reached the slope of the crater wall, she hesitated, before scrambling her way up the steep incline. It seemed she wasn’t the only one who wanted to watch the show. A few adult dragons were soaring up to the rim with ease, and some younger dragons were following Small One up the trail she was unintentionally blazing.

When she reached the narrow ridge that lined the crater, Small One immediately had to tighten her talons against the rushing winds. A large red firemane kindly stretched a wing out to shield her as best he could, for which Small One was grateful. Bold One bounded up next to her, followed by Clever One. Furious One and his volunteers were quite far away already. In the distance, Small One could see what they were aiming for, looming above the jungle. Clouds were gathering, likely summoned by the hardskins and sky-swimmers. Small One watched the players fall into place, and waited for the battle to begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How much has Small One’s wing recovered? (/45%)  
> Small One rolls a 33 + 55 = 88% recovery.
> 
> Really sorry this one is so short. I was decidedly not in the mood for it tonight, but hey, that’s part of the challenge. Also, we had our first timeskip this chapter. It won’t be the last, and it certainly won’t be the longest. It was about three weeks of time in all.


	26. Attack

Small One fought to keep her wings from twitching too much as she watched Furious One and his entourage grow smaller on the horizon. The sky-swimmer and silverscale both veered away from the rest of the dragons, soaring up into the thick blanket of clouds the dragons had brought with them and disappearing from sight. Meanwhile, Furious One and the four hardskins dipped their wings and dove beneath the flying metal beast, splitting apart to circle it from below.

Small One’s sharp eyes could just barely make out the tiny shapes of death-prey on the metal beast’s back, staring over the edge looking for the dragons and glaring out into the gathering storm. She had to prick her ears to hear the faint sound of Furious One’s screeching roar, accompanied by the harsh sounds of the hardskins, just before all five circling dragons lunged in to strike at the belly of the metal beast. It was all happening too far away for Small One to see exactly what was going on, but by the looks of things, Furious One and his volunteers weren’t doing as much damage to the beast as they would have hoped. 

The metal beast began a laborious turn, sending the attacking dragons scattering. Suddenly a thin blast of pressurised water lanced out of the clouds, striking the metal beast on its wing. The sky-swimmer twirled and danced around the beast, peppering it with water blasts. Unfortunately, while the metal beast briefly listed to one side, its metal hide was too tough to be pierced by water alone. Furious One threw himself at one of the beast’s wings, using his weight to try and pull it down while scorching it with fire. While the death-prey onboard scrambled to try and spear Furious One with sharpened bolts of metal, a booming noise heralded the arrival of the silverscale, diving down from above with a vivid red trail behind it. It smashed straight through the nose of the metal beast and out the other side, just barely managing to avoid plummeting to the ground.

Despite the best efforts of the silverscale, the metal beast was still flying and showed no signs of toppling. A hardskin went down, a spear sticking out of its chest. The death-prey who launched the spear had its arms raised in victory for all of a second before it was snatched up and tossed to the ground by another vengeful hardskin. Furious One dodged a launched spear and screeched at the other dragons to fall back. He clearly thought they weren’t going to succeed with the original plan. As soon as the dragons had abandoned their attack, the metal beast began slowly flying after them.

Furious One and the others flew over the watching dragons at blistering speed, Furious One growling in a low tone which Small One recognised as Fearless One’s language. In the crater below, the mountain dragon lifted her great head, gentle gaze staring up at the rim of the crater with curiosity. A few more orders from Furious One, and suddenly Fearless One was on her feet and walking, each mighty footstep sending small tremors through the earth. Her swaying tail threatened to push over a few trees as she went, slowly but surely climbing up the walls of the crater. Her progress was slow; by the time she was heading down the opposite slope, the metal beast was halfway to the ridge, and Small One could see the death-prey pointing at the assembled dragons.

Furious One, having rested his wings, suddenly took off again, flying towards the metal beast shrieking with vengeance. Once he had its attention, he dove at a shallow angle, flying below his usual speeds so as not to lose it. After another slow and arduous turn, the metal beast began descending after him, death-prey manning the spear launchers and keeping their aim at Furious One. Small One wondered what he was doing, until she noticed that Fearless One had made her way into the jungle, and was now flattening a path for herself through it. When the beast was just a little above the jungle canopy, Furious One suddenly pulled up and away, leaving annoyed-looking death-prey trying to shoot at him with spears.

Right then, a few of the death-prey finally noticed the sound of splintering wood and rustling leaves, looking down at Fearless One’s great back. They opened their mouths in what Small One assumed was excited shouting, before training their launchers at her and firing. The spears didn’t faze Fearless One in the slightest. A select few buried their tips in her scales, but most bounced off harmlessly. Fearless One’s head began lifting from the trees as she stood up on her hind legs. It was only then that the death-prey realised the trap they’d been lead into—chasing Furious One had left them at eye level with Fearless One.

Fearless One puffed out her throat and roared, Small One taking a sadistic pleasure in the way the death-prey put their hands to their ears and crouched in fear. Fearless One clamped her huge jaws around the nose of the metal beast, dragging it down and shaking it as if it was a toy. As soon as it was low enough, she reached her arms out and wrenched off its left wing. Several death-prey decided to take their chances and threw themselves from the beast’s corpse, rather than risk Fearless One’s wrath. Fearless One continued shaking the flying beast, her claws and teeth shredding the metal with ease. After pulling its other wing off, she sheared the entire thing in half and unceremoniously dropped the remains into the trees and stomped on them, before casually lowering herself to the ground and turning to make her slow return to the crater.

Small One was very glad Fearless One was on the same side as her.

The other dragons had begun bellowing and roaring, congratulating Fearless One on her easy victory. Over the din, Small One just barely heard Furious One announcing that though the loss of the fallen hardskin was tragic, they had successfully deterred a threat and won their first victory. There were unlikely to be any survivors, but the missing metal beast would surely draw the attention of the death-prey. He seemed intent on coming up with a plan for another attack soon. Small One could only hope it would be one where she could come along too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does Furious One’s plan of attack work? (Intelligence = 12)  
> Furious One rolls a 2 (required 8). Failure.
> 
> Does his second plan work? (Intelligence = 12)  
> Furious One rolls a 13 (required 8). Success.
> 
> Does Fearless One bring down the airship? (Strength = 18)  
> Fearless One rolls a 13 (required 2). Success.
> 
> I very nearly didn’t write tonight’s chapter, since I was working on an assignment which sapped all of my concentration. I’m glad I got it done anyway, even if it is quite short.


	27. Rest

Despite Furious One’s grand speech proclaiming that he would lead another group of volunteers on an attack, he and the ones who had staged the attack on the flying metal thing spent the rest of the day napping in the sunlight. It took Fearless One quite a long time to haul herself back into the crater, and she left a trail of flattened trees and gouged stone behind her. Small One suspected that section of jungle would take a long time to recover. Rather than go straight back to sleep like Small One was expecting, Fearless One paused to chew on the rock of the crater wall, crunching shards of stone up and swallowing them as though they were bits of meat. It occurred to Small One that she never had seen Fearless One hunt or graze. Perhaps rocks were her favoured food, and she just didn’t need to eat very often.

Once she’d finished munching her boulders, Fearless One returned to her favourite patch of long-dead grass, opened her mouth in a gaping yawn, and settled back to sleep, immediately being swarmed by her usual young companions, Small One included. Small One imagined that Fearless One lead a very peaceful life, able to nap whenever and wherever she wanted and not have to worry about being eaten by something. Her power was truly terrifying when it was put into action. The way she’d effortlessly ripped the great metal beast apart as if it was a dead leaf and then tossed it aside made Small One immensely glad that Fearless One was overall a gentle soul. She seemed content to nap and allow herself to be used as a playplace and sanctuary for hatchlings.

With the excitement over, Small One was left to her usual routine, but her mind was racing with thoughts of grand battles. Sure, Furious One’s initial plan hadn’t worked, and one hardskin had paid the price for it. But the plan had been turned around in the blink of an eye, and if they brought Fearless One along for any future attacks they would surely be guaranteed victory. Small One wondered where the next assault would be. Would they attack another flying metal beast? Or would they attack the tower, and free all the dragons still held captive? Destroying the tower would mean facing off against the abomination again. Furious One’s attacks hadn’t even fazed it. Would Fearless One or some other dragon have the power needed to destroy the living corpse?

Furious One had said the living corpse was an affront to nature, and Small One was inclined to agree. Everything about it was wrong. It needed to be destroyed. She wondered how it had come to be. Did the death-prey make it? Small One wouldn’t put it past them. With the way they treated dragons, the idea of them killing something and then bringing it back to a mockery of life wasn’t too far-fetched. She wondered how they could stand the horrendous smell it leaked, although it was possible they didn’t notice because it was so similar to their own nauseating scent of death.

Bold One began batting at Small One’s wings, Small One giving a warning snap when her injured wing was impacted just a bit too roughly. Still, Small One was knocked from her thoughts, Bold One clearly wanting to hunt. They stalked their way through a clump of trees, eyes and ears open for prey and noses sniffing at the air. Unfortunately, the place was so saturated with dragons and pack hunters that any prey was long gone. Flying feathered prey taunted the two young hunters with their cheerful calls, flitting off as soon as Bold One made moves to climb up the trees and get them.

Without any prey to catch, the pair went to the lake to play. While they were there, Small One splashed around in the water, Bold One hanging back as usual. Small One found it amusing that Bold One seemed to love the taste of the swimming prey, but disliked getting into the water to catch them. Small One made a game of chasing them towards her friend to see how far Bold One would be willing to go into the water to catch them before dashing out and shaking her paws. In a gesture of celebration for the victory against the flying beast, Small One helped Bold One catch a swimming prey, carefully watching their movements and leaping to catch one right as it veered away from Bold One’s paw. Small One winced at the cold sliminess, but Bold One’s eyes lit up.

When Bold One finished her meal, the two younglings played by the water until the sun began to set, ending the day curled up on Fearless One’s snout with thoughts of valiant battle against the death-prey in their minds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has the potential to be the worst chapter in the story. I had the longest day of my life today with barely any food or sanity breaks in between conferences, lectures, and lab sessions (8 hours total academic time today with only an hour long break near the end).
> 
> I almost didn’t write this, deciding I would take just one break for my own sanity, but my old friend ‘you-can’t-sleep-as-soon-as-you’re-actually-in-bed’ came to say hi. As a result I wrote this while nodding off every few minutes. I’ve been super busy with university things lately, hence the drop in chapter quality (as one reviewer noted, I completely forgot to describe the airship last chapter…) but this one takes the cake. It should ease up soon with any luck.


	28. Training

Over the next few days, Furious One seemed determined to gather as many dragons as he could and begin working on the next plan of attack. Small One tried to listen in on their strategising, but found that being crowded in by adult dragons was rather uncomfortable. The fact that her eyelids started sliding shut whenever Furious One and the others began speaking of things like the weather and flight formations didn’t help.

So she continued to hunt and play as usual. To her delight, her wing was finally strong enough again that it only started to hurt if she exercised it too much at once. Opening and folding it, as well as spreading it and trying to flap it, no longer caused any pain aside from the twinge of stiffness that came from not being used for so long. The muscles on her left wing were looking a lot more toned than on her right, so she resolved to try and fix that as soon as possible. Bold One had begun making experimental leaps from Fearless One’s snout and trying to glide down, and Small One wasn’t about to let herself be outdone.

One morning, Small One heard the familiar gathering roar from Fearless One. Just like usual, the crowd made it annoying to try to see and hear what was going on. Small One glanced around and spotted Clever One, perched atop the head of a rather irate-looking hardskin. Her eyes lit up at Clever One’s good idea, and she quickly darted up the tail of a nearby clearskin, settling herself between its wings and ignoring the irritated tongue-waggling. Furious One was already beginning to croon out into the crowd by the time Small One had nipped the clearskin into accepting her presence.

Furious One described one of the death-prey’s nests, a smaller one made of stone and fortified with skin and scales pulled from hardskins. It was not as big as the tower, but it was big enough and had enough inhabitants to pose a potential threat. Apparently, some of the silverscales that had been sent out as scouts reported smelling a foul odour near the nest, and Furious One believed it to be a living corpse, an abomination of bloody flesh and metal. Obviously it could not be allowed to continue existing, and so Furious One planned to lead a squadron of dragons down to destroy the abomination and kill as many death-prey as possible. Bringing down the nest would also be preferred.

He sounded out the familiar call for volunteers. He asked for strong fliers, who could keep watch from the air and inform the decisions of those on the ground. Those positions were quickly snatched up by sky-swimmers. He also asked for those with mighty strength and killer instinct, to try and bring down the living corpse. It felt no pain, and so those who were tasked with fighting it had to be ready to simply tear it apart until it stopped moving. Finally, he asked for smaller dragons, those who were young, but fast and who would escape any pursuers they picked up. They would serve as distractions, luring the death-prey from their nest with the hopes of an easy catch.

Small One felt her heart race. This was a perfect role for her! She fit the bill perfectly: she was small, evidently made for an easy target if her first encounter with the death-prey in the woods was anything to go by, and she had experience in eluding crowds of death-prey. All she had to do was not get caught, and she knew she wasn’t letting that happen again, not for anything. She chirped her desire to join the attack, joined by the voices of Clever One, Bold One, and several other juveniles and yearlings. Concern briefly flashed on Furious One’s face, but he did nothing to dissuade them. Perhaps out of this concern, he next called for dragons who would help the hatchlings in case something wrong. For this, the mystical one-horns, who seemed to speak every dragon’s language perfectly, volunteered, declaring that their lightning would free any trapped hatchlings with ease.

With his volunteers settled, Furious One called for a few more days of rest before the assault would begin. He advised the dragons who would be coming along to prepare, and perhaps consider training. So, Small One did just that. She played with Bold One and Clever One with renewed fervour, chasing them, hiding from them, fighting them off when they found her, and honing both her hunting skills and her evading skills. She learned all the ways in which Bold One could be baited into an easily-avoided attack, and she quickly figured out how to read where Clever One would reappear during their playfights. She learned that fleeing into a small space wasn’t a good idea when you were being pursued, because then you were trapped and had to fight. Running through small openings your pursuers couldn’t fit through and out the other side, however, was a perfect  way of escaping.

She barely noticed the days go by, until one morning Furious One was offering her his wing to climb aboard. While she settled herself onto his glittering scales and grabbed a hold of a spike, she noticed how his back seemed a little less broad than it had last time. Or perhaps she was just a bit bigger than before. The warmth from Bold One’s mane was a fine comfort against the biting wind of the sky when Furious One took off, followed by a veritable army of firemanes, clearskins, silverscales, and hardskins. A few sky-swimmers danced along above, their serpentine forms gliding through the air with an elegance Small One could only dream of matching. The one-horns didn’t appear to be following on the ground, but Furious One assured her that they would definitely meet them at the death-prey nest. They always managed to get to where they needed to be, somehow.

The jungle gave way to the swamp just before Furious One and the rest of the flock swerved a hard left, flying along the mountainous ridge that lined the crater. Eventually the wetlands dried out and became a grassland, which in turn became rockier and more bare as the altitude increased. A combination of Bold One’s warmth and the peaceful sounds of rushing wind lulled Small One into a light doze. She was sure Furious One would wake her up when it was time to attack, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How much more has Small One’s injured wing recovered? (/12%)  
> Small One rolls a 9 + 88 = 97% recovery.
> 
> Small One’s training has increased the following stats:
> 
> Strength 5 > 7  
> Finesse 6 > 7  
> Intelligence 10 > 11
> 
> To all the people who told me to take a break, I appreciate knowing that I won’t be crucified if I have to miss a day for my own sake! It heartens me to know that there are people who enjoyed last night's chapter even if I personally thought it was a bit of a mess.


	29. Lure

Furious One’s low growls stirred Small One from slumber. She blinked sleepily as the adult dragon glided low to come in for a soft, stealthy landing. Not too far away, the death-prey nest loomed. It was much smaller and squatter than the tower, with only tiny slits for windows and walls of thick, unglamorous stone. Spiked barricades surrounded it on all sides, leaving only a narrow gap for anything to go in or out. The barricades wouldn’t pose any kind of obstacle to the adults who could fly, but to Small One and the other younglings, they were impassable walls. All around the nest, what little plants tried to grow between the rocks looked shrivelled and dead, as if the nest itself had choked the life out of them. The smell of rotting flesh was thick in the air, leaving no doubt in Small One’s mind that an abomination lurked within.

Small One jumped down from Furious One’s back as soon as he touched down. Squinting at the nest, she couldn’t see any death-prey, but she couldn’t see past the barricades. Furious One began issuing orders in a low voice. Small One noticed he didn’t seem to be relying on translators as much anymore. It seemed he was gradually learning the tongues of other dragons. After a few rumbles and snaps, the sky-swimmers vanished into the clouds, those who had come to fight lowered themselves into an aggressive posture, and the one-horns pawed at the ground in anticipation. Small One blinked. When had the one-horns gotten here?

With all the adult dragons in place, there was nothing left to do but start the attack. And for that, Small One and the other dragonlings needed to get in there and cause enough of a mess to get the attention of the death-prey and their corpse, and then make it out into the open where the adults could fight with ease. She took a deep breath. They needed to be in and out quickly, before the death-prey noticed the unusually large crowd of dragons outside. She surveyed the ones who would be going in with her. There was herself, Bold One, Clever One, a hatchling hardskin, a yearling red firemane, and a juvenile blue firemane. Six younglings total. Hopefully having so many targets would make it easier to avoid being snatched up by the  death-prey.

Carefully, Small One trotted in through the gap in the barricade. The immediate area around the nest was eerily silent, without even wind to rustle the dying plants. The sound of small stones being pressed beneath scaled feet was the only sign of life. Sniffing at the air to try and get her bearings proved fruitless, as the stench of death and rot so thoroughly overpowered all other scents that there was nothing to even give her a hint at where to go. The lack of proper smells unnerved her, but she supposed it was no worse than the tower and its endless reek of despair.

Bold One shuffled up next to her and wrinkled her nose, followed by Clever One and the other three. With no immediate signs of danger, Small One decided to risk walking in through the front door. As far as she could tell, there was no other way to get in. Once inside, a stone hallway with several rooms branching off rolled out before her. Small One paused, ears perked for any sounds of danger. Dull, distant thumps reverberated through the floor from ahead. Footsteps, perhaps? Softly grunting to her five companions, Small One crept along the hallway, stepping as lightly as she could and keeping eyes peeled for death-prey.

The rooms posed a challenge for Small One. The hallway was empty, but there was no doubt in her mind that the rooms were not. Sure enough, when Clever One took advantage of his free-moving eyes to peek into the nearest room, he twitched his tail to warn the others of danger within. Small One puffed air through her nose. For the best results for Furious One’s plan, they needed to get deep into the structure, attract the attention of as many death-prey as possible, then be chased out into the open. Getting spotted by whatever was in the first room would be very unhelpful.

There was nothing for it but to try and sneak by. Clever One, aided by his sticky feet, simply walked along the wall above the doorway, shimmering as he went. The other hatchlings were not so fortunate. For the firemanes, their broad paws made only the slightest noise, and the large blue one pressed herself low to the ground and quickly rushed forward, followed by the red one and Bold One. Four out of six dragons had snuck by safely. That just left Small One and the hardskin. The hardskin pressed himself low to the ground, but each step he took was accompanied by the harsh clash of metal on stone, no matter how lightly he tried to step. Small One only fared slightly better, with her talons clicking off of the stone far louder than she would have liked.

Passing the open door, Small One stole a glance into the room, where a single death-prey sat by a flat piece of wood, looking tired. That was good. If it was tired, it probably wasn’t paying that much attention. Just a few more steps and they’d be past this room and onto the next. Unfortunately, that was the precise moment that Small One’s set her foot down, and found her talon wedged in a crack in the stone. The hardskin was in the clear despite his clanking footsteps. They were all just waiting on her. She glanced at the death-prey in the room, relieved to see it was still poring over the flat piece of wood. Delicately, she tried to withdraw her talon from the crack as quietly as possible.

A horrible grinding noise broke the stillness as Small One’s hard talon scraped against the stone. It wasn’t a loud sound by any means, but in the silence of the hallway, it was near-deafening. The death-prey snapped to attention, immediately locking eyes with Small One. For a moment, nothing moved. Then the death-prey’s eyes lit up and it bellowed at the top of its voice. Abandoning all pretense of stealth, Small One and the other dragonlings took off, running deeper into the nest. They could have fled outside, but then their pursuer would have raised the alarm about Furious One’s army too early. Small One was determined to kill as many death-prey as possible, and if that meant running into the heart of their nest then so be it.

As they ran, death-prey spilled from the doorways, first with looks of confusion and then with looks of excitement. Dodging their clumsy, half-hearted grabs was quite easy, but Small One knew that the loose-skinned, unprepared ones weren’t going to be the real threat. The first real sign of trouble was when, just after turning a corner, Small One and the other dragonlings found themselves face-to-face with an armoured death-prey. It brandished its long fang and raised the shell on its arm, but Small One ignored it and ran between its legs, followed by the hardskin. The blue firemane lashed her tail at the hunter as she ran past, momentarily knocking it off balance and clearing the way for the red firemane and Bold One to get by with ease.

Watching Clever One run along the wall and feeling Bold One’s comforting presence next to her as she ran reminded Small One of their ill-fated escape attempt from the tower. Idly, Small One wondered what would have happened if Clever One didn’t get away. Would they have ever been rescued, or would they have wasted away like Broken One? Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Small One suddenly found herself having to swerve to run past another armoured death-prey. Clever One whipped his tongue at it, catching it off guard and stealing a container filled with green liquid. The livid death-prey ineffectually swung its pair of short claws at Clever One, who gleefully swiped his tongue at it in an attempt to steal even more.

Even in her frantic run, Small One tried her best to remember which turns she had taken. That would be important for when they turned back. More and more death-prey, both armoured and loose-skinned, were piling into the hallway, crowding it and making it difficult to run past them. The hardskin, little as he was, managed to conjure up a tiny gust of wind with his wings, providing a quick distraction and allowing the others to clear a path. At this point, Small One felt like they must surely have the entire nest chasing after them. There was quite a pack following behind them and still more appearing in the hallway ahead. 

Dodging grabs and sprays of metal was becoming increasingly difficult, but between her own nimbleness, Clever One’s taunting, and the juvenile blue firemane’s brute strength, Small One managed to evade all attempts at capture. The other dragonlings weren’t doing too bad for themselves either, deftly avoiding every attempt at capture. Playfighting had improved their skills too, it seemed. Still, Small One was running out of room to maneuver. At this point, she didn’t think the nest even had any more death-prey to send out. There was still no sign of the corpse, but the death-prey would hopefully send it out as soon as they saw Furious One’s army.

Shrieking at the other five, Small One turned on her heels, confusing the pack of death-prey behind her. The others all caught her meaning and quickly flipped around, dashing back towards the entrance. Unfortunately, the momentary confusion was over quickly, and the death-prey pressed themselves together to stop the young dragons from getting through. 

A loud bark from the blue firemane caused Bold One and the red firemane to stop in their tracks. Small One didn’t understand the command, but she figured it best to stop if the others were too. Clever One, looking particularly wary, hung back as the juvenile firemane sent a spray of sparkling blue powder forth with a beat of her wings. Some of the death-prey seemed to realise what was happening, quickly trying to scramble back, but it was too late.

Gnashing her teeth, the blue firemane ignited the powder, setting the whole corridor alight with blue flames. The loose-skinned death-prey screeched and flailed about, frantically beating their flaming outer skins. The armoured death-prey were less fazed, but even they broke formation in the presence of the scorching heat. Seizing the opportunity, Small One made a mad dash through the crowd, the heat of the flames singing her scales ever so slightly, and bolted down the corridor towards the shining exit. Five sets of footsteps told her that the other five were all ok, though Clever One was sporting a nasty-looking burn on his side.

As soon as Small One and the others broke into the open air, Small One called out to Furious One. The clanging of metal behind them intensified along with all of the shouting. Darting out through the gap in the barricade, Small One made it behind Furious One just in time for the death-prey to spill out of the fortress in a confused cluster. Furious One leered, and in his eyes Small One saw the rage that she had named him for, the first time she had seen it in a long time. With a snarl and a roar, he charged into battle, accompanied by his entire army.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does Small One sneak past the doorway? (Finesse = 7)  
> Small One rolls a 3 (required 13). Failure.
> 
> Does Small One avoid being caught? (Finesse = 7)  
> Hatchling teamwork affects Small One’s roll (+3)  
> Small One rolls a 10 + 3 = 13 (required 13). Success.
> 
> So you may have noticed there was no chapter yesterday. Well, rather than missing my first day because of academic pressure like I would have thought, I missed it because I was sick. How sick? Sicker than I’ve been in ten years. I wound up curling up in bed and going to sleep without even thinking of writing a chapter. Still not feeling 100%, but I managed to get this one out. There may be two chapters tomorrow to make up for it, or possibly just one very long chapter.


	30. Battle

Just as he had when storming the tower, Furious One began the battle by scooping up the nearest death-prey on his horns. This time, however, he added a twist, electricity coursing through his pointed shells and straight into the unfortunate death-prey. He tossed it, smoking and screaming, to one side, just as a red firemane detonated a cloud of wing dust in a crowd of death-prey and sent quite a few rolling across the ground. Realising they were in a bad position, the hunters quickly began backpedaling into the nest, but a pair of high pressure water blasts from above cut them off. Where the water hit stone, it erupted in a spray of shrapnel and stinging vapour, blocking the door and thus the only means of escape for the death-prey.

While the rather proud looking sky-swimmers circled to cut off any would-be escapees, Furious One and his army ripped into the hunters. The death-prey were confused and disorganised, having prepared only to capture several young dragons wandering around, not fend off an attack by more than a dozen angry, full-grown dragons. Clearskins spewed mist, obscuring the death-prey’s vision. They seemed to have realised that clumping together was only making them an easier target, and had scattered about with weapons hastily drawn. A red firemane charged forward, slamming his horns into an unfortunate loose-skinned death-prey and sending it crashing into the stone wall of the nest. Small One heard bones snap, and she didn’t think it would be getting back up again.

A hardskin shrieked as its face erupted in small explosions, inflicted by a death-prey with a strange, sparking plate attached to a long stick. The hardskin reeled back, and the death-prey followed up by swinging its sparking weapon again, knocking the hardskin to the ground. Right as it tried to land the finishing blow, its arm was suddenly held back by seemingly nothing. It turned to gawk, only for a clearskin to melt into existence. Giving the death-prey a cheeky chirp, the clearskin yanked its tongue back and pulled the hunter off its feet, tossing it straight into Furious One and his path of destruction. Furious One barely seemed to notice when his red and black sparking claw impacted it and sent dragon energy coursing through its armour.

Furious One raged through everything in his path with all the fury Small One had named him for. The various powers of the world flowed through him and out into the crowd, shocking, freezing, and burning in equal measures. When firemanes spread their wing dust, Furious One helped ignite it, setting whole swathes of hunters and loose-skins on fire. Hardskins beat their wings and whipped up misty, flaming tornadoes. One blue firemane fell, a death-prey clinging to her back and slicing into her scales with its claw. Just as three more death-prey rushed in to end the unfortunate firemane, a bolt of holy lightning struck one down, confusing the others enough to allow the firemane to stand back up. She flashed a grateful look at the mystical one-horn who had saved her, then sprayed her assailants with blue flames. 

Small One, watching from outside the barricade, wanted so desperately to join in the battle. She could sense a similar restlessness in the other dragonlings as well. But charging in now would be suicide. Between all the fire, ice, and lightning being flung around and the wildly attacking death-prey, she’d just be killed in the crossfire. Better to lay flat at a distance and take comfort in the fact that she helped get the whole thing started. The more the battle went on, the more vicious the adult dragons became.

A clearskin suddenly squawked, having been startled from its hiding by a particularly astute death-prey. The death-prey aimed its long fang at the clearskin’s exposed chest, a glow building at the weapon’s tip. Suddenly, the weapon exploded in a burst of blue flame, scorching the clearskin’s chest and causing it to screech out in agony. A black one-horn summoned pillars of frigid ice, knocking the death-prey with the exploding fang away, but the damage was already done. Like scavengers flocking to a carcass, the death-prey who were still able to fight rushed the unfortunate clearskin all at once, sweeping its legs out from under it and inflicting a multitude of small, bleeding wounds. Within minutes, it lay dying, with precious little hope of recovery, and its crimson blood stained the damp ground.

In the wake of a dragon being brought down, the rest suddenly seemed to fight a lot more fiercely. Claw strikes had more power put into them. Flames were hotter, ice was colder, lightning struck more frequently. The clearskins, angered by the loss of one of their own, thickened the mist even further, shrouding the whole area in white. Small One wished it wasn’t quite so thick so she could see better. Concentrated blasts of poison gas struck death-prey at once, and the sound of coughing echoes throughout the mist.

All of a sudden, a pair of firemanes, one red, one blue, leapt into the air and locked paws. Red and blue wing dust swirled around them in a dazzling display, billowing out and coating the ground all around the nest. All of the dragons quickly realised what was about to happen, eyes wide, and all except the firemanes and Furious One beat their wings to get as far away as possible. The pair of intertwined firemanes locked eyes for just a moment, just before they roared and set all of the dust alight at once. The howling screams of agony as loose-skinned death-prey were scorched alive and the armoured ones found their hard shells melting were like music to Small One’s ears.

The sky-swimmers, still carefully penning the death-prey into a small space for the dragons to annihilate, evidently decided they were bored of acting as guards. One, clearly inspired by the pair of firemanes, joined forces with a hardskin to summon a tornado of massive proportions. The tornado greedily devoured the flames, whirling into a beautiful purple inferno that towered into the sky. Even Furious One balked at the sight of it. The remaining firemanes quickly jumped back, allowing the giant wind funnel to swallow the crowd of hunters. Several limp bodies were tossed up, still aflame, landing somewhere in the distance. Those death-prey that were unlucky enough to still be alive were treated with swirling, flaming death, that tossed their charred and mangled corpses aside with ease.

In the wake of the massive fire whirl, there was not a single death-prey left alive. Furious One sneered as the clearskins set about clearing the mist. Small One wondered what would happen next. If there were any death-prey still inside the nest, would they summon their corpse? Or were there truly none left? Vision narrowed to the entrance of the nest, Small One held her breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do Furious One and his army kill the hunters? (Element = 16)  
> Furious One rolls a 16 (required 4). Success.
> 
> Really awkward place to stop, I know. This chapter had to be split in half for time reasons. I underestimated exactly how long I would have to spend travelling today. There was a lot more traffic than I thought there would be, so I didn’t have time to write a super-long chapter like I said I would. I’ll try that for tomorrow instead. Fun fact, this is the closest to midnight a chapter has ever been posted (it’s 11:52 PM right now).


	31. Painless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel obligated to say that this is far and away the most violent and gory chapter of the story so far. I don’t think it’s bad enough to warrant an R rating, but squeamish readers might want to skim it.

Small One didn’t have to wait for very long for an answer to her question. Within minutes, a startled death-prey with elaborate plumage attached to its loose blue skin appeared in the doorway, staring mutely at the smoking destruction with eyes wide and jaw slack. Bared teeth and low growls were all the warning it needed to rush back into its nest. Furious One made a rumbling noise of amusement, remarking on the cowardice of the death-prey. They lorded over the dragons when they thought they had them conquered, but when their slaves fought back, they panicked.

A whirring, creaking noise started up from deep within the nest, stone rattling. Small One and the other dragons regarded the structure suspiciously as the roof began to open up. For a moment, all was still. Then the smell of rot intensified, and a red and grey blur leapt from within the bowels of the nest. It was up in the air before any dragon had time to react, and in a flash it had seized a sky-swimmer by the neck and brought it crashing down to earth. The elegant dragon flailed its serpentine body, sails billowing, but the corpse’s grip was unyielding. Small One grimaced at the sight of it. This one was even uglier than the last.

Whereas the one at the tower looked as though it could possibly have been alive, this abomination had the look of something fresh from the grave. Its skinless flesh looked even more raw and its hardskin armour was rough and jagged at the edges. Muscle and sinew looked tenuously attached at best, and some of its legs bent at unnatural angles, yellowed bones sticking out into the air. Still holding the downed sky-swimmer in one ragged hand, it stretched its slack jaw wide and warbled out a distorted cry for death, spreading its mangled metallic wings as it did so.

Furious One reared up to roar, but before he could charge at the corpse, it pulled the unfortunate sky-swimmer’s head off in one violent motion. The once-beautiful dragon twitched and spasmed for a few seconds before laying still in a growing pool of its own blood. The other sky-swimmer shrieked in rage, gathering its breath into a concentrated blast of water aimed directly at the abomination’s face. The corpse didn’t even notice. With its yellowing, mismatched claws, the unnatural abomination wrenched a chunk of bloody flesh free from the downed sky-swimmer’s carcass, hastily jamming it onto its own leg. The fresh meat did not mesh with the older bits of flesh at all, but it held in place. Finished adding to its own body, the living corpse turned its eyeless gaze to Furious One’s army, gurgling in its distorted voice.

The gathered dragons had been stunned into stillness by the grisly display, but at the threatening gurgle, they each slid into their own aggressive postures. Snarls and roars rose into the air, and one ambitious hardskin dove from the sky with claws and jaws outstretched. The corpse raised its right arm, briefly righting its broken elbow, and smacked the hardskin out of the air with such force that when it impacted the barricade, it went straight through and kept going. A few of the more cowardly dragons began to shuffle uneasily from foot to foot, but a bark from Furious One settled them. Spreading his own wings, Furious One leapt forward with claws cloaked in black and red energy. He just barely dodged a claw swipe from the corpse, landing a solid blow to its side that sheared through some of its armour. He quickly followed up with a slash from his other claw, then jammed his horns straight into its fleshy sides, just as a stream of flame summoned by a firemane struck the abomination in the side of the face.

Despite the massive hits it had just taken, the corpse remained on its feet as though nothing had happened. It stretched its jaw even wider than before, crooked teeth and long tongue on full display, gurgling and hissing at Furious One even through its melting faceplate and charred flesh. Quickly wrenching his horns free, Furious One found he wasn’t fast enough to get back in time. The corpse clamped its crowded jaws straight onto Furious One’s chest, eliciting a shriek of pain that shook Small One’s very soul. She shivered and pressed herself even closer to the ground, now glad that this was not a fight she could participate in.

A white one-horn reared up behind the corpse, horn flaring with holy lightning intended to strike it down. The corpse simply lashed its fleshy tail with a strength belied by its limp, ragged appearance, still keeping its jaws clamped firmly on Furious One. Caught off guard, the one-horn was launched backwards and into the wall of the death-prey nest, lying prone with its horn snapped. Furious One, through what Small One imagined was an incredible force of will, pulled himself from the jaws of the abomination. To Small One’s horror, a large amount of glittering black scales and hide were left behind in its teeth. Furious One quickly retaliated with a spray of frigid icicles despite the blood pouring from his chest. Just like it did all other attacks, the corpse shrugged it off, glaring after its lost prey even as Furious One tried to dash away to recover.

A clearskin spat a glob of poison straight into where the corpse’s eyes would have been, if it had any. The flesh around its faceplate which hadn’t already been scorched black turned an unhealthy shade of dark purple, but it didn’t slow it down in the slightest. It slammed its mismatched wings into the air, chasing after Furious One with an unearthly howl. Before it could catch its wounded prey, it was dragged down by a pair of hardskins who latched onto its back, and a trio of firemanes who grabbed onto its disjointed hind legs. Shrieking and flailing, the corpse tried to pull itself free from the ones who had caught it, turning away from Furious One, who staggered away in a wounded haze, casting a grateful look at the ones who had saved him.

The firemanes bellowed and detonated flame dust all along the corpse’s belly, knocking it off balance. A bolt from the heavens and a spray of water knocked it even further down, and it redoubled its mad thrashing with a warbling screech. One firemane lost her grip, falling roughly to the ground below. Now with more room to move, the corpse kicked another firemane in the face with its free leg, with enough strength to snap the tip from her horn. The Ireland held firm however, growling and spewing as much flame as she could while latched onto the corpse’s rear leg. The fleshy tail came down to impact the firemane’s wings, and the firemane gave a shaky breath and froze as a sickening snap rung out. Now with only one firemane pulling it down, the corpse pulled its leg so hard as to dislocate a bone, freeing itself, before beating its wings and throwing the two hardskins off.

Rounding on the firemane with the broken wing, the corpse warbled and lunged, tearing into her flesh with its crooked yellow teeth. It seemed to relish in her suffering, licking at her blood with its slimy tongue and slowly dragging its claws across her exposed flesh as she shrieked in agony. Still pressed flat outside the barricade, Small One cringed and laid a wing across Bold One’s back. The screams of the firemane subsided into soft whimpers as the corpse continued drawing its long claws and fangs across her body, ignoring the explosions being set off across its back by the other two firemanes. Finally the sound stopped and the unfortunate firemane was left mercifully still.

Then the abomination did something that made Small One’s stomach turn. Reaching for its own face, where flames had charred its flesh and poison coursed through its blood, the corpse sheared the damaged meat off and tossed it aside. With half of its face now missing, the corpse tore a slab of flesh from the dead firemane, fixing it into place on its head. It adjusted its faceplate slightly, holding the newly-added meat in place. Its face reassembled, the corpse shrieked and beat its wings, turning with surprising speed to grab both of the remaining firemanes from the air in its claws. 

With the startled firemanes held in its vicelike grip, it dove back down and smashed them both into the ground, lifting and slamming them over and over again before tossing them aside and taking off after the hardskins. The hardskins, not wanting to be caught out, quickly scattered, twisting and turning to try and stay ahead of the corpse. Small One watched with falling spirits as a few dragons—the single remaining adult firemane, all three of the clearskins, a hardskin, and the remaining sky-swimmer—skulked off in the direction of the crater. She tried to be angry at them for fleeing, but when she stared at the carcass of the tortured blue firemane, she found herself wondering if it would be worth it to flag one down and ask for a ride.

The abomination had caught up to one of the two hardskins that we’re trying to pin it down, grabbing it and dragging it to the earth, ignoring its thrashing and shrieking. It didn’t even bother to kill its target before it dug its claws into the poor hardskin’s tough outer shell, peeling layers of metallic skin away and leaving muscle and sinew exposed. As the corpse jammed the dripping steel onto its own flesh to make armour plating, Small One flattened her ears against the terrible, agonised screams of the hardskin. Though the thought pained her, she wished the hardskin would just  _ die  _ already, so it wouldn’t have to suffer anymore.

The hardskin was still alive, but its agony provided the perfect distraction. Small One felt her heart soar as a black rocket slammed into the corpse from above, pinning it to the ground with a screeching roar. Furious One held the corpse’s head in his claws, his own blood still flowing from his chest and mixing with that of the abomination. The corpse howled, but Furious One held firm, keeping his grip on its head. A black one-horn gathered ice about its horn, then summoned a freezing spike which speared straight through the abomination’s head from below, pinning its jaws closed and keeping its head close to the ground.

Despite the spear jammed into its head, the corpse was still flailing, as active in its twisted mockery of life as ever. Furious One snarled, struggling to maintain a grip. Suddenly, a tongue materialised from nowhere, and Small One realised with a start that Clever One was no longer watching beside her. Instead, the young clearskin had crept into the battle, and had now attached his tongue to the abomination’s faceplate. Small One whimpered. What was he doing?

Furious One, the one-horn, and the agonised hardskin all stared at him as he tugged in the bit of metal. With a squawk of effort, he pulled it clear from the corpse’s face, leaving its blank, fleshy face exposed. With nothing to hold it in place, the chunk of flesh taken from the blue firemane slid free, landing on the blood-soaked ground with a wet slap. The corpse shrieked and redoubled it’s flailing, nearly tossing Furious One free. Furious One blinked, then pulled his lips back in a wicked sneer, clearly realising what Clever One was getting at. Small One’s eyes widened in her own dawning realisation. If they pulled all the armour from the corpse, they could get at the softer flesh and pull that off too. Perhaps then the thing might finally give up on its facsimile of life.

Gripping the back of the corpse’s head, Furious One used his sharp teeth to tug on the nearest bit of meat he could get. The rotting flesh offered precious little resistance, coming free with barely any effort at all. The black one-horn summoned even more pillars of ice to try and hold the struggling corpse in place, quickly replacing them when the abomination inevitably shattered them in its thrashing. Working quickly, Furious One sheared off more and more of the flesh making up the corpse’s head, eventually reaching its true skeleton. It was unlike any skeleton Small One had ever seen. It was made of a dark, bloodstained metal, held together with round joints and lined with wires. Small One wondered if those wires were what allowed it pretend to live.

If Furious One was confused, he didn’t let it show. In one swift motion, he grabbed the base of the metallic skull in his jaws, and, using all the strength in his neck, slowly but surely pulled it from its neck, ignoring the sparks coming from the wires. The corpse was now flailing so much that it destroyed the ice spears as fast as the one-horn could summon them, but Furious One remained in his place on its next. With one final, violent jerk of his head, he pulled the metallic skull free and threw it as far to one side as he could. The corpse’s body froze for a second, then spasmed and jerked wildly for a while before collapsing, twitching for a few seconds before going finally, mercifully still.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do Furious One and the other dragons destroy the corpse? (Strength = 12)  
> Corpse’s Feel No Pain affects Furious One’s roll (-10)  
> Furious One rolls a 17 - 10 = 7 (required 8). Partial success.
> 
> Does Furious One survive his wound? (Luck = 10)  
> Furious One rolls an 18 (required 10). Success.
> 
> Does Clever One figure out how to destroy the corpse? (Intelligence = 15)  
> Clever One rolls a 5 (required 5). Success.
> 
> I do believe this is the longest fight scene I’ve ever written. It got way more violent and gory than I ever intended it to, but that’s how things go when you’re dealing with a war machine that’s literally made out of dismembered corpses and which kills to live. The idea of it replacing damaged bits of itself with the carcasses of its victims is my own twisted idea, by the way. I tried to think of some logical way in which it could “sustain itself by killing” like the lore stated it does, and this is what I came up with.


	32. Aftermath

It took quite a long time for Furious One to risk jumping down from the corpse’s back, as if he was afraid it would suddenly come back to life. But it made no moves to stand back up. Where Furious One had pulled its skull off, severed wires hissed and sparked for a while before finally stopping. Small One stood up, wincing at the stiffness in her legs from being pressed flat for so long. She carefully padded over to Furious One, eyes fixed on the body of the abomination, to make absolutely sure it wasn’t going to move again. Her nose wrinkled and stomach heaved at the smell of blood in the air. The telltale crunch of little talons on stone told her the other young dragons had followed her over.

The scene after the battle was a gruesome one indeed. Where the ground was once soaked in the heavenly rain of the sky-swimmers, now it was dyed crimson by the mingled blood of death-prey and dragons. The blue firemane, covered in deep slashes and almost unrecognisable, lay where she had been killed, eyes screwed shut in agony. The other two firemanes, the ones who had summoned the great inferno to kill the death-prey, lay on top of each other in a crumpled heap. The blue one was moaning softly, legs bent at unnatural angles, while the red was so still and silent that Small One doubted he was still alive. The beheaded sky-swimmer lay in a pile of scales and webbing, its head lying quite a distance away with its mouth open in a silent scream. A steel wing sticking out from beneath a pile of rubble was all that was left of the hardskin who was thrown through the barricade.

The one-horn who was thrown into the wall limped over to Furious One from where she had been cowering. Her snapped horn sparked dangerously, but she kept her head held high despite the pain she must have been in. The black one-horn immediately rushed over and nuzzled her. Furious One opened his mouth to thank the one-horns and Clever One for their help, but his voice was soft and cracked, almost inaudible. Small One realised with a start that Furious One’s chest was still bleeding profusely, and that his black scales were looking far paler than they should have, no longer glittering. He suddenly began to tip over, leading Small One to jump back before he managed to catch himself. His eyes had a glazed look to them that Small One didn’t like.

In a flash, the pair of mystical one-horns were whinnying orders at Furious One, orders to sit down and rest. While the white one-horn tended to Furious One, the black one looked around, his gaze falling on the only other uninjured adult—the hardskin who escaped the corpse’s pursuit. The hardskin was lying next to her fallen companion, and Small One realised with horror that the dragon who’d had his skin pulled off was still alive. His mouth was hanging open, tongue lolling out as blood poured from his gaping wounds. The healthy hardskin was resting with her face next to him, wing draped protectively over his back. She licked her dying friend’s face tenderly, offering him one last comfort. Through his agony, the skinned dragon managed to muster the strength to give one feeble lick in return.

The black one-horn slowly walked up to the hardskin pair. Eyes brimming with pity, he gave a soft nicker. The uninjured hardskin looked up at him with such sadness that Small One wanted to run right up to her and nuzzle her until she felt better. But she got the sense that she wouldn’t be feeling better for a long time. Through the strange one-horn ability to make their meaning known to all, the healthy hardskin understood the one-horn’s message. But in her grief, she screeched and bared her teeth at the one-horn. The one-horn didn’t flinch, simply repeating his command with a little more force. The hardskin narrowed her eyes, but then she let her facade drop, and the sadness returned. She looked wistfully towards her dying friend one last time. She lowered her head and gave one final nuzzle and tender lick. Small One turned away, and a single, clear, snap rang out.

Small One dared to turn back, just in time to see the hardskin walking away from the body of her friend with neck freshly snapped. The white-one horn neighed something unintelligible to the black one, then stepped away from Furious One and funnelled lightning through her broken horn. Despite a minor struggle, she managed to summon a bolt of lightning from the heavens. In a flash, she was gone. Small One blinked, searching around for her, but she appeared to have vanished completely. The black one-horn turned to the hardskin, then to Small One and the other juveniles. He told those who could fly to start heading back to the crater on their own, and instructed the others to climb onto the hardskin’s back.

Small One chittered at the one-horn, wondering what would happen to Furious One and the injured firemane, but the one-horn simply told her not to worry about them. Somewhat reluctantly, Small One climbed up the hardskin’s outstretched wing, settling herself into place on her smooth back. The hardskin wasn’t nearly as big as Furious One, and with four hatchlings riding her it was a little crowded, but all of the hatchlings managed to fit. Small One noticed that the hollow sadness never left the hardskin’s eyes as she spread her wings to take off, and when she was in the air, she cast one last glance at her fallen mate. The grief in Sad One’s eyes wrenched Small One’s heart, and she crooned a few words of comfort, even though she knew Sad One wouldn’t understand.

With the wind itself bending to Sad One’s whims, the flight back to the crater was relatively quick, though Small One did take note that Furious One was a much faster flier. Furious One had looked to be in terrible shape, with a huge, open bite wound on his chest. It hadn’t stopped bleeding at all. Small One knew her kind were quite tough, but would Furious One be tough enough? And even if he lived, would he ever be as strong as he once was? She had already lost her Mother. Was she to lose Furious One now too? Warmth enveloped Small One’s back, shaking her from her thoughts. To her surprise, Bold One was embracing her, her warm mane sending waves of heat through Small One’s scales. She offered a meow, and Small One crooned back.

As Sad One flew, Small One noticed several red spots in the sky, rapidly growing in speed. Sad One gave a squawk of surprise, suddenly dipping low to narrowly avoid the quartet of silverscales that rushed overhead, sparking red energy trailing in their wake. Within seconds, the silverscales were little more than dots on the horizon, heading towards the death-prey nest. Small One cocked her head as she watched them, wondering how they had known to go there. As far as she remembered, Furious One hadn’t called for any silverscales to come fight.

Small One breathed a huge sigh of relief when the familiar jungle and jagged ridge came into view. Sad One soared over the mountain peaks, diving down for a steep landing right next to a very surprised-looking Fearless One. As soon as Sad One landed, Small One leapt down, followed by Bold One, the little hardskin, and the little red firemane. She looked around, but couldn’t see Clever One anywhere. To her surprise, she did see the white one-horn with the snapped horn. The one-horn gave a bemused whinny when Small One questioned how she had gotten there so quickly, stating that nothing is faster than lightning. Small One found that didn’t really answer her question, but she was far too tired to ask for more details. Instead, she asked what would happen to Furious One and the other wounded.

The one-horn explained that she had already sent the silverscales to go get them and bring them back to the crater, where many plants with healing properties grew. Apparently, the clearskins had built up quite the stockpile of stolen healing brews from the death-prey, and the one-horn had plans of trying to use those to help as well. Small One didn’t really like the idea of using death-prey concoctions on dragons, but if it would help, the she supposed it was worth it.

Though the sun had yet to set, Small One wanted nothing more than the press herself against Fearless One’s great snout and sleep for a day. She curled up with Bold One and closed her eyes, trying to ignore the screams of tortured dragons that echoed in her mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can Furious One recover? (Luck = 10)  
> Furious One rolls a 10 (required 10). Success.
> 
> We went from the most violent chapter in the story straight to the most emotional one. I didn’t mean to make this such a rollercoaster, but that’s just how it goes.


	33. Recovery

For the next few days, the crater was suffused with a grim atmosphere. Dragons sat with twitching wings or paced restlessly. Distracted dragons failed more hunts, and the annoying pack hunters decided to be a bit more bold, putting all the younger dragons on high alert. Even Fearless One seemed to be on edge, staying awake longer than usual. The one-horns and clearskins were rushing about at all times tending to the wounded. The blue firemane, with all her grievous injuries, was recovering fairly well. To everyone’s surprise, her red mate was still alive, though he was barely clinging to life. His caretakers didn’t seem to have very high hopes for him. 

The one-horn with the broken horn didn’t seem to be too slowed down by her injury. She pranced around helping with the healing and offering her wisdom to any who required it, and Small One often found herself enjoying Wise One’s company when she didn’t have anything else to do. She hadn’t been in the mood to play very much these past few days. The black one-horn who’d help defeat the corpse was similarly monitoring the recovery efforts, though with a much sterner and colder gaze. Small One was sure that Stern One would have abandoned the red firemane by now were it not for Wise One and the team of clearskins insisting on trying to help. There was, however, one dragon that even Stern One never entertained thoughts of abandoning.

Furious One was in a dire state. The wound on his chest had finally run out of blood to shed after a hasty application of herbs, but now it was exposed to the air and felt hot to the touch. Buildups of yellow fluid had to be drained every few hours, a process which filled the air with a rancid stench and the low sounds of Furious One groaning. Small One spent most of her time by Furious One’s side, often accompanied by Clever One and Bold One. Wise One seemed pensive when she looked at him, often humming to herself and lashing her tail. She frequently forced the death-prey healing concoction down Furious One’s throat whether he wanted it or not. Small One’s heart spiked with worry at how he was often too weak to resist.

Furious One and the other wounded went through mixtures and herbs so fast that the crater was running out of them. Silverscales had been sent out to gather fresh herbs, and clearskins were sent to try and steal more concoctions. Not all of them returned. Some returned sporting injuries which needed treating. Small One had caught Stern One grumbling about how returning with wounds defeated the purpose, but Small One was just pleased that they came back at all. 

While maintaining vigil over Furious One, Small One and Bold One spent a lot of time grooming each other. Small One noticed that Bold One’s short, wispy mane was looking a lot fuller now than it had before. Her own scales itched every now and then, until she used a rock or rough piece of wood to scrape them off. The new scales beneath were a deeper black in colour, with the faintest tinges of purple visible in the right light. Her injured wing had stopped hurting altogether now, leading her to try taking her wings out and beating them. To her disappointment, she made absolutely no progress towards getting off of the ground. Though climbing up onto Fearless One’s snout and trying to glide down may have worked, Small One didn’t want to risk upsetting the massive dragon. With how tense things were at the moment, she wasn’t sure if Fearless One would be as tolerant as usual.

Wise One almost seemed disappointed with the other dragons in the crater. There had been more than a few deserters in the days since the battle with the corpse. Wise One often ranted to Small One, Bold One, and anyone else who would listen that the dragons had been relying on Furious One and his strength to inspire them a little too much. A male glitterscale in his prime was a force to be reckoned with, but Wise One insisted that the other dragons shouldn’t be discounting their own strength. Small One caught snippets of Wise One and Stern One talking every now and then. Stern One seemed to think that the only one who could feasibly destroy a corpse without injury was Fearless One or some type of dragon he called a spearscale. Fearless One was hardly the face of subtlety and the only spearscale this side of the ocean was hibernating, encased in stone atop a mountain peak.

Small One often tuned out their discussions unless they were discussing Furious One’s health. She didn’t need to know about the logistics of the ongoing war against the death-prey, only what her role in it would be. In the meantime, she whiled away the slow days by hunting and trying her best to avoid the pack hunters. Bold One helped in that regard. There really was nothing else to do but stay alive and hope Furious One did the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is Furious One’s wound uninfected? (Luck = 10)  
> Furious One rolls a 4 (required 10). Failure.
> 
> Small One’s injured wing is now fully healed.
> 
> More of a short, transitional chapter for tonight, I wasn’t much in the mood to write something lengthy. Anyone who reads Jurassic World fanfics might be noticing how many references to a certain well-known fic I’ve been slipping in with these names. Actually, this entire story is full of references to other fandoms. When it’s eventually over I may write a little afterword listing out the many works this draws inspiration from.
> 
> Another fun writing tidbit for tonight: the spearscales went through a bunch of different names before I settled on spearscale for them. First they were greatcoils, then longworms, then rockbacks, then ridgescales, then skyscales (suggested by a friend), then finally spearscales. A lot of indecision for something which only gets mentioned in passing...


	34. Threat

A week passed, and Furious One saw no improvement. The blue firemane, with all her broken legs, was alert enough to grumble about not being able to move. Her red mate fluttered his eyes open once or twice before drifting back into unconsciousness. Wise One seemed hopeful for both of them, though she was worried about them catching the same rot that had taken hold of Furious One. Furious One’s chest wound was just as red and angry-looking as it was before, the scales around it growing hotter and more swollen faster than Wise One could try to fix it. She was sending the silverscales back out almost as soon as they arrived, and they were having to travel farther each time to find what they were looking for.

Stern One eventually grew tired of Small One and Bold One loitering around and getting underhoof, leading him to snort at them and tell them in no uncertain terms to go away. That left Small One and Bold One to wander aimlessly about the crater. Small One still didn’t feel like playing, though flapping her wings in place was an entertaining form of exercise. Instead, she hunted with Bold One in the long grass. They managed to work together to catch a feathered prey before it could fly off, but Small One found the feathers to be annoyingly tickly to eat, and pulling them off just revealed how little meat there actually was beneath. Bold One seemed to like them, but Bold One liked the swimming prey too, so Small One didn’t really trust her tastes.

On a clear morning, Small One pressed herself low, carefully choosing where to place her feet for maximum stealthiness. She’d learned from both Bold One and Clever One on that front. Her talons weren’t as silent as Bold One’s paws or Clever One’s feet, but putting them in the right places certainly helped. Her prey wasn’t too far ahead, and it seemed not to have seen or heard her yet. It was a very small furry thing, but it was the only prey she could smell and so she would settle for it. Just as she coiled herself to leap, a high-pitched shriek followed by the characteristic boom of a landing silverscale startled her. Much to her annoyance, it startled her prey as well, the little furry thing quickly scurrying down a burrow with its long, pink tail trailing behind it.

Small One growled in the direction of the interfering sound, but then the sharp shriek rang out again. Wondering if it was something she would need to be there for, or if she should search for more prey, Small One gave a few sniffs at the air. There were no fresh scents of prey, save for the furry thing that had just fled. Since she clearly wasn’t having any luck hunting in here, she decided she may as well go and see what all the screeching was about before she switched hunting grounds. When she broke out of the long grass and headed towards the noise, a telltale flash of red glinting off silver told her that it was a silverscale who was raising the alarm.

There was quite the unhappy crowd forming around the silverscale, so Small One took the tried and true route of climbing onto someone else’s back to get a look. The silverscale didn’t seem to be injured, but its chest was lighting up and dimming at a very quick pace. It was clutching a bundle of squished herbs in one talon. Small One didn’t think Wise One would be too happy about that. A wave of ice materialised from nowhere, and suddenly Stern One was standing next to the panicked silverscale. The silverscale chirped and whistled to Stern One, who listened intently before relaying its words to the crowd. It took a while before he explained the message in a language she could understand, but Small One felt her stomach drop when she heard what had gotten it so worked up.

Another flying metal beast was fast approaching, and this one was bigger and had a lot more spear launchers than the last one had. Small One’s mind raced back to the first metal beast. Furious One and the sky-swimmers and hardskins had barely scratched it. It took Fearless One grabbing it and ripping it apart to destroy it. By the silverscale’s guess, it would be at the crater in only a few short hours.

Panic erupted among the dragons. Small One had gotten quite good at understanding other tongues, but she couldn’t catch everything. She still managed to identify a few calls to flee, some suggestions of a peace offering, and one weak-willed dragon suggesting they simply surrender. Fearless One put a stop to all of that with one mighty roar, slowly hauling her great bulk up to amble over to the crowd. Her slow rumbles shook Small One’s throat and stole her breath. She growled and rumbled for quite a while, and Small One was quite surprised when Stern One’s translation wound up being a very simple declaration that Fearless One would pull the beast from the sky like she did before.

Small One breathed a sigh of relief knowing that Fearless One was going to kill the metal beast, but there was nagging feeling that Fearless One wasn’t going to be able to do it. Last time she’d had Furious One to help by luring the beast down to her level. What if it was too high up for her to bring down?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How much has Furious One recovered? (/100%)  
> Furious One rolls a 1. 1% recovery
> 
> That is quite possibly the worst recovery roll I’ve ever seen in anything ever. I rolled a d100 and he got a 1.
> 
> I had to cut this one short because I procrastinated too much in writing it. A lot of people last night were asking me to explain the names I’ve given the monsters, since my Land Before Time-esque naming scheme isn’t always the most intuitive. So here you go. A few people were mentioning Fatalis, but he’s not in the story yet, though I do have ideas for him.
> 
> Hardskin = Kushala   
> Clearskin = Chameleos  
> Firemane = Teostra/  
> Glitterscale =   
> Living mountain = Lao-Shan Lung  
> Silverscale = Valstrax  
> Sky-swimmer = Amatsu  
> Mystical one-horn = Kirin/Oroshi Kirin  
> Spearscale = Dalamadur


	35. Skirmish

**** The next few hours were rather anxious ones. Small One scrambled up to the rim of the crater with Clever One to watch the metal beast coming in. It loomed like a vicious cloud on the horizon, with a body of steel that tapered to a point at the nose, and two flat, inflexible wings spread out to the sides. Small One didn’t really understand how it was flying without moving its wings or summoning winds like a sky-swimmer. Its underside seemed to be lighting aflame periodically, which Small One was hopeful was a sign of some sort of injury. All along its back, death-prey stood at the ready, arms gripping the spear launchers.

Fearless One had shifted her massive bulk partially up the crater wall, avoiding the rim in an attempt to hide. Small One wasn’t too sure it was working. Stealth was a foreign concept to the living mountain, and the metal beast was up high enough that Small One was fairly certain it could see Fearless One’s red spikes sticking up. Still, Fearless One made a token effort to press herself against the stone and cover herself with a thin, see-through late of foliage.

Soon, the roar of the metal beast grew louder, and it was close enough for Small One to hear the chatter of the death-prey and the metallic sound of spears being readied. Fearless One suddenly erupted from her ‘hiding’ place, standing on her hind legs and reaching her arms out towards the metal beast. Unfortunately, it seemed Small One was right. The metal beast had known she was there, and it quickly ascended in response to her attack. Though Fearless One stretched herself as tall as she could get and snapped with her jaws, the metal beast was just out of reach. With a roar of frustration, Fearless One effortlessly swatted several launched spears out of the air, with the ones that made it through bouncing harmlessly on her belly scales.

Small One’s chest tightened. Fearless One hadn’t managed to catch the beast and now it was crossing the rim and heading into the crater. Dragons were flitting off in every direction, squawking and snarling as they dodged launched spears. Several silverscales threw themselves at the beast’s armoured belly and wings, but all their efforts seemed to win them were sore heads and barely-dodged spears. The beast stayed in the air, even if it did rock a little bit. On the ground below, Wise One and a small crowd of white one-horns readied their horns in unison. With a collective neigh of effort, they managed to summon an almighty thunderbolt, bigger than any Small One had ever seen.

The bolt struck the metal beast dead center, electricity coursing through its entire body. The gloating voices of the death-prey suddenly turned into screams of agony as the lightning surged through their bodies, though they somehow didn’t die. The metal beast began to sway and lurch, slowly but surely listing to one side and getting closer and closer to the ground. Fearless One’s eyes lit with opportunity, and she hauled herself into a standing position as quickly as she could. The death-prey scrambled to get their beast back in the air, but Fearless One didn’t give them nearly enough time for that.

She caught the beast in her claws and, snorting lightly and squeezing her armoured eyelids shut against the spears that were frantically being thrown at her face, wrenched one wing off, just as she had before. Quite a few death-prey threw themselves overboard, extending huge, billowing flaps from seemingly nowhere to try and glide down to safety. Small One took a certain amount of glee in watching the falling death-prey get snatched from the air by vengeful dragons. One somehow managed to avoid being grabbed by a dragon and successfully landed in the lake. For a brief moment, the death-prey seemed pleased with itself, whooping and raising its arms in the air while it disentangled itself from its billowing glider.

Then the scaly beast with horns and spikes that lurked in the water lunged from the depths, snapping the death-prey up in one bloody gulp.

When Fearless One was done eviscerating the metal beast, she tossed it into the lake, where it slowly sank to the bottom. An earthshaking victory roar rolled through the crater, joined by the chorus of other dragons, including Small One. Fearless One moved to settle into her favourite sleeping place, but a loud whinny from Stern One stopped her, and every other dragon, in their tracks. Stern One seemed to be calling for a gathering, so Small One quickly scrambled down the inner wall of the crater to catch what was about to be said. To her dismay, Stern One did not have good tidings.

Stern One did not have grand speeches of victory. Stern One spoke of how ridiculously close that last skirmish was. One stroke of bad luck, and who knows how many dragons might have died? It was sheer chance that the white one-horns were able to stagger the metal beast with their thunderbolt. A single one-horn wouldn’t have had the necessary strength, but combining their power like that was both dangerous and unpredictable. And it seemed the death-prey were growing wise to Fearless One’s presence by simply flying out of her reach.

Small One’s heart sank with each harsh nicker. Stern One was right. It really was only luck that they weren’t being picked off with spears right now. Stern One carried on by saying that it was probably time to start planning attacks on a grander scale and bringing more dragons. To that end, he was going to send the silverscales out to see what was happening to the rest of the world in the ongoing conflict, and then they’d see where they stood. If Furious One managed to recover in the meantime, then Stern One would defer to him—but for now, Stern One wanted to think about ways to prevent attacks from happening in the first place rather than simply fending them off, because death-prey adapted much quicker than dragons, and he didn’t seem to think they had much longer left.

Small One spent the rest of the day playing with the small chunks of the metal beast that had fallen onto the ground, attacking them and tossing them between herself and Bold One. But her mind dwelled on Stern One’s words, right up until the sun sank and she fell asleep on Fearless One’s great snout.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does Fearless One catch the airship? (Finesse = 3)  
> Fearless One rolls a 15 (required 17). Failure.
> 
> Do Wise One and the other one-horns manage to bring it down? (Luck = 10)  
> Wise One rolls an 11 (required 10). Success.
> 
> Does Fearless One destroy the airship? (Strength = 18)  
> Fearless One rolls a 12 (required 3). Success.
> 
> I think this is the latest I’ve ever started writing a chapter, so if it seems rushed or unpolished, that’s why. I spent most of the evening planning out a job I’m doing tomorrow.


	36. Destiny

It was a grim few months before the end began.

Metal beasts flew in every now and then. Each one had to be tricked into Fearless One’s jaws in a different way. The death-prey found new ways to fortify them at each turn. More and more dragons fell each time the beast flew in, until it was eventually considered that the dragons might need to leave their home. At some point, the death-prey began coating themselves in the scales and bones of fallen dragons and wyverns, as if to mock the monsters. All around the world, fights were breaking out between groups of death-prey and their corpses, and nests of dragons, conflicts that left the ground ravaged and stained with blood. Whispers of a living mountain being brought down by death-prey did little to improve morale. Forests were levelled, swamps were dried, and rocky mountains were left with gaping holes in their sides.

But all was not lost. After a few weeks, a miracle happened. Furious One stood up on his own shaking legs. Small One would admit to snuggling up to him and purring when he finally managed to haul himself up, noting that she now stood about halfway between his wrist and his elbow in height. Once the infection cleared from his chest wound, it began to close up quickly. A huge, ugly patch of pale, discoloured scales would forever mark the spot where the corpse had grabbed him, and the small ruff of spikes would likely never regrow, but he was alive, and that was all that mattered to Small One. Even with help from the one-horns, he still wasn’t at full strength after a few months. The abomination’s jagged teeth and the sickness they inflicted had taken a hefty toll on him.

As soon as Wise One and Stern One would let him, Furious One retook his position as leader, accompanied by the cheers of those dragons who were still alive and hadn’t deserted. He made quite the show of examining the growing pile of metal chunks, frightening off a few pack hunters that had made it their home. With his usual aplomb, he gave a grand speech promising victory over the death-prey, though Small One couldn’t help but notice how he sounded just the slightest bit unsure. When Furious One was back in charge, the dragons became a lot more proactive in the war. Small One would chalk that up to the awe inspired by Furious One. Even with a giant ugly scar on his chest, he carried with him an air of dignity that no other dragon could hope to match.

Still, as much as Furious One was a help to morale, it could not be denied that the dragons were slowly, inexorably losing the battle. Fewer dragons returned after each battle. Silverscales and one-horns reported entire nests being slaughtered, leaving nothing but desecrated corpses to bake in the sun. The seas no longer hummed with the songs of the great bearded swimmers, and the deserts were still and silent without the rockback dragons to keep the sand flowing. For each small, insignificant death-prey nest that was destroyed, two more would spring up. The death-prey became harder to kill with each passing day, finding ways to cloak themselves in the skin of dead monsters, and finding ways to imbue their weapons with the fury of the elements. The dragons did their best to spread word of how to slay the corpses, but the death-prey responded by making them harder to pull apart, or by shifting their weak spots to harder-to-reach places. It was an arms race, and the dragons were falling behind.

Small One took part in the skirmishes, when she could. When distractions were part of the plan, or when a small dragon was needed to access something, she was brought along. The death-prey quickly grew wise to the use of baby dragons as lures, leaving Small One to try and figure out new ways to distract them. Seldom did any trick work more than once. To her dismay, though her horns had lengthened over time, she couldn’t summon more than a headache from them. Commanding the forces of nature would have made her quite the boon in battle, she felt. Particularly since glitterscales like her could summon four different elements. The death-prey were quick to adapt, but they had yet to find a way to confer resistances to more than one element at a time. Bold One usually came along with Small One during battles, with Clever One watching their back. Working together, the three dragonlings usually managed to come away with no more than a few minor wounds.

Still, the dragons were losing the war. They were just barely holding what little ground they had, and even that was slipping away. It was in this dire situation that Furious One summoned the dragons of the crater to a meeting. Small One noted grimly that she no longer had to climb onto anyone’s back to see through the crowd. Bold One settled next to her, and Small One purred, shoving her nose into her warm mane. Bold One had grown too, with a thicker mane than she’d had before. Her wings were broader too, shedding enough dust for small explosions. Small One stretched her own wings and examined them critically, keeping one eye on Furious One.

As soon as Furious One determined that every dragon was gathered, he began to speak. He brought grim tidings, speaking of how dragons all around the world were falling to the death-prey. He spoke of their seemingly endless numbers, and how they had grown frustrating difficult to kill. Small One listened intently, idly wondering why he gathered all of the dragons if all he intended to do was depress them by telling them things they already knew. Then Furious One said something that gave her pause. He spoke of a bold, daring idea. A plan of attack which, if it worked, would most likely mark a turning point in the war. He spoke of staging an attack on the death-prey’s stronghold, the central nest to which they reported all tidings of war.

There was uproar when his message reached the crowd. Confused growls and angry snarls at the ridiculous suggestion. Furious One silenced them all with a roar of his own. Small One had to admit she wasn’t sure where he was going with this. They could barely take on small nests. To challenge the stronghold would be suicide. Still, Furious One carried on, detailing his idea. The dragons would form a massive warband, leaving the crater unguarded. Fearless One would act as a carrier, and along the way they would recruit any dragons they could, and any wyverns who were willing to stop ignoring the problem and help.

When they reached the stronghold, they would lay siege to it. Fearless One would use her massive bulk and strength to push her way into the fortress and damage as much of it as possible, while the other dragons mobbed the death-prey and killed as many of them as they could, making sure to destroy any weapons that could potentially harm Fearless One. Then, when the stronghold was at their mercy, the dragons would either crush it, or, failing that, simply wait it out. Small One thought it sounded like a bad idea. The death-prey would have the advantage, both in numbers and in knowledge. Fearless One wasn’t subtle enough for a surprise attack. She could hear mutters to similar effect from the crowd.

Still, Furious One was the leader, and she would defer to him. After all, it was possible that she was simply not seeing something that he was. A five month old dragonling wasn’t likely to know more about the mechanics of battle than a several hundred year old adult. Eventually, the rest of the crowd begrudgingly agreed to the plan, possibly out of desperation. Small One knew they needed a miracle to make this work with so few dragons remaining. There was only a little over two dozen dragons in condition to fight. A group only slightly smaller than this had struggled with a small nest. How would this group fare against a larger nest?

And so it was that, the next day, every dragon in the crater settled themselves onto Fearless One’s back. As per usual, what few wyverns remained refused to help. In a wyvern’s mind, a problem wasn’t a problem until it affected them. Frustrating, but that was simply how the wyverns worked. The sky-swimmers danced about in the air, weaving storms to try and shield the living mountain from prying eyes. It was when Fearless One began to walk that Small One realised a critical problem with this plan. Fearless One was  _ slow _ . She lumbered along at her own pace, always keeping three legs on the ground and occasionally pausing to shift her weight. Fortunately, she didn’t have to worry about most obstacles. She could effortlessly flatten what few living trees remained.

Fearless One walked, slow and steady, for two days and two nights without rest. In that time, several more dragons joined the convoy, and even a few lesser beasts. The mystical one-horns seemed rather perturbed by the gold-maned apes who had joined, but Furious One took one look at the apes’ bulging muscles and fierce temperaments, and told the one-horns to get along or else. A few red fliers like the one Small One had seen in the ravine so long ago joined too, accompanied by their green mates. After some trial and error and frustrating communication attempts, Small One managed to figure out that their eggs had been stolen by death-prey, and they sought revenge.

After pausing for a rather long nap, Fearless One got moving again, carrying quite the party on her back. While she walked, in between play, Small One stretched her wings and tested the wind. She could feel flight just on the edge of her grasp. All she needed was one good push, she knew, and she could take off. She just needed to find that reason that would get her up and into the sky. Eventually, after quite the long walk, the death-prey stronghold came into view on the horizon.

Small One knew something was wrong from the moment she saw it.

A dull orange glow emanated from the great castle, and there was something strange, something  _ twisted  _ in the air. No matter how much she sniffed at the air, or felt the wind with her wings, Small One couldn’t put her talon on what exactly was wrong. Her scales prickled with each great step Fearless One took. Something was not right. The weight of immense danger pressed down on Small One from all sides, constricting her throat and chest. Nearby, Bold One shuddered, and Clever One’s eyes were darting all around. Even Furious One looked more subdued than usual, with a quiet, contemplative look in his eyes. Fearless One drew ever closer to the stronghold, the overall shape becoming clearer.

The castle was on fire. A towering inferno roared, consuming stone and wood alike. Fearless One kept walking forward, and as she did, Small One noticed the dead death-prey littering the ground and the battlements. An abomination lay in scattered pieces near the entrance to the castle, ripped apart and tossed aside in the same casual manner one might discard the fur or feathers of one’s prey. Furious One, under his breath in a voice so quiet few heard it, wondered what could possibly have caused such destruction. It was then that  _ something  _ moved in the flames, and Small One’s blood ran cold.

A serpentine neck perched atop a battlement, silhouetted against the blaze, reached down and came up with the body of a death-prey. Long, crooked horns pointed skyward, and glowing yellow orbs stared intently at the death-prey in its jaws. Short arms came up to grab the death-prey right as broad black wings unfurled. With careful motions, the massive head dipped down and sprayed a concentrated stream of white-hot flame at its own body. Fearless One thudded closer, and Small One could make out more features of the black beast, and the faintest hints of a male’s scent. He held the body of the death-prey up to the patch of scales he had just burned, and Small One watched in horror as the body melted into the black beast’s skin, merging seamlessly with his scales. She suddenly felt like her lungs was three sizes smaller than they had been before, and she hardly noticed that Fearless One had stopped walking.

As the castle went down in flames and the black beast picked up another body to melt onto his scales, he suddenly turned his gaze towards the approaching dragon warband. A malicious sneer crossed his face, and Small One swore that his unnatural, crystalline eyes were staring into the depths of her soul. He licked his lips, slowly and deliberately, sending shivers down Small One’s spine. Those eyes were unnatural and _twisted_ and he was **_wrong and he shouldn’t exist and she couldn’t breathe and_**

Suddenly, she felt the ground beneath her lurch, causing her to instinctively grip the red scales beneath her. Fearless One was shuffling her legs, slowly but surely turning around and throwing many of the dragons on her back off balance. When she had her back to the castle, she slammed down onto her front legs with a mighty quake and began to move, faster than Small One had ever felt her move before. 

Fearless One was fleeing. Fearless One was  _ afraid _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How much more has Furious One recovered? (/99%)  
> Furious One rolls a 92 + 1 = 93% recovery.
> 
> Long one (and almost late one...)! We’re getting close to the end of this arc. I debated long and hard about this chapter’s timeskip, but I went with it in the end because showing every single thing that happened would have dragged on far too much and become very repetitive very quickly.


	37. Fatalis

Fearless One’s stampeding gait was barely faster than her usual amble, leading several dragons to abandon her and take off on their own wings, including Clever One. Small One risked looking back at the (twisted,  _ evil _ ) black beast, and squeaked at the sight of his massive wings fanning out and beating at the air. With an elegance that seemed impossible for his gangly proportions, Twisted One took off, catching the warmth from the fire and soaring after Fearless One with a calm amusement in his crystal eyes.

Small One’s eyes widened. Twisted One was coming, and Fearless One was _too_ _slow_. She needed to get away and she needed to get away _now_. In a flash, Small One leapt from Fearless One’s back, all thoughts clouded by the need to _get away_. It took her a few moments of panicked fleeing before she realised that her talons weren’t touching the ground. In fact, they weren’t touching anything. She looked down, and saw the ground rapidly falling away, as her little wings cut through the air in smooth motions. For a moment, she forgot about the unnatural creature chasing her, her heart soaring. She was flying under her own power! The warmth from the fire sent wind beneath her wings and propelled her up. Acting on instinct, she angled her wings to climb, chirping happily all the while.

**Having fun?**

Small One’s heart stopped as the last echoes of the unearthly voice faded from her mind. It was a deep, booming voice, one which seemed to speak in every language and no language all at once. Her wings threatened to lock up, but she fought to keep herself steady in the air.

**Oh, relax, my dear. I don’t plan on killing you right this moment. I’ve just had a rather large meal, you see.**

Small One’s breathing grew rapid and shallow as a long, serpentine figure drew up next to her, black wings beating lazily. Up close, Twisted One almost looked silly. His neck was far longer than seemed right for his body size, and his head was much too large. His tail was long and whiplike, a ridge of spikes running along his back from his head to his tail. His limbs, by comparison, were comically short, with long, delicate looking toes ending in short claws. But all pretense of comedy ended when Small One willed herself to look into his eyes. They were not real eyes, just orbs of yellow crystal with slitted pupils embedded within. Yet somehow, they seethed with hatred.

**Oh come now, I can’t be** **_that_ ** **terrible looking.**

Small One shuddered as the voice rolled through her mind again. Was Twisted One reading her thoughts?

**I am, actually. Your thoughts aren’t very interesting.**

Small One whimpered and tucked a wing close to herself, trying to pull away from Twisted One and his taunting. The great beast simply followed her, barely moving.

**Fleeing from me? How rude. And after I was so kind as to dispatch Castle Schrade for you. Your little tea party was marching straight to your own deaths, you know.**

Twisted One’s words, though they dripped with condescension and malice, struck a chord with Small One. She had thought the idea was a poor one, but followed along anyway. In his own strange, skin-crawling way, Twisted One had saved them all.

**You see? You really should be thanking me. On the downside, with all of you having not died, that’s a few less humans I get to slaughter to even the playing field. That’s my job, you see. Balance. Humans seem to forget it exists as a concept, so it’s my job to remind them.**

Small One lowered herself in the air slightly while Twisted One continued to speak in her mind. It sounded like he may have been on the side of the dragons, at least for now, but being near him was enough to make her want to curl up in a hole somewhere and whimper until he went away. He leered down at her, descending to once again fly alongside her.

**Oh, where are my manners? I’ve not introduced myself yet. I’d tell you my real name, but that’d make your mind even emptier than it already is, and we don’t want that. The humans call me Fatalis, the wyvern of destiny. Even though I’m a dragon. Not the brightest ones, those. But what’s your name for me, Small One? Twisted One? ...You’re not very good at naming things, are you?**

Small One shivered.

**I exist in this world as nature’s wrath personified. The humans think themselves above nature’s laws. They imagine that the world revolves around them, and that they have the right to violate the natural world as a result. Showing them how wrong they are is what I live for. There’s always a bigger dragon, unless you’re me.**

Despite herself, Small One breathed a sigh of relief. A burnt-out forest lay below, and she intended to land in it and find someplace to hide from Twisted One. Though it seemed as though the black dragon’s ire lay with the death-prey alone, she did not want to risk being on the wrong end of those jaws.

**Oh relax, I don’t intend to slaughter any dragons at the moment. For once I can have a nice, simple case of genocide where I won’t be troubled with such trivial things as ‘morals’ or ‘different perspectives’. Creating artificial lifeforms from dead dragons is wrong. Nice and clear cut, means there’s no extremists muddying the waters on the other side.**

Small One didn’t understand most of what he was saying, but he mentioned not killing dragons and she was going to latch onto that and hope he wasn’t lying.

**I’m growing bored of you, little one. Go hide in a hole like you so desperately want to. I’m off to go find more humans to use as armour. They’re really onto something with this whole ‘wearing the enemy’ idea. Until next time! And let’s hope ‘next time’ won’t be a time where the dragons are the target of my anger, for your sake if not mine. I would quite enjoy that, you see.**

With a high-pitched roar, Twisted One pulled away from Small One, climbing until he was a mere shadow against the dull orange glow of the nighttime sky. Small One made a clumsy, awkward landing, scattering ashes into the air. A huge, scorched tree stump offered little shelter, but Small One was too overwhelmed to find anyplace better. Curling up on the tree stump, she tucked her wings in close and tried to get her breathing under control, Twisted One’s malicious presence gradually fading from the air.

It took a long time before Small One’s whimpering and trembling subsided enough for her to drift off to sleep in the smouldering, burnt-out woodlands. Twisted One and his flippant comments left her dreams filled with fire and crystalline eyes. Her sleep was not peaceful that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fatalis’ dialogue is full of Take Thats! aimed at myself and I love it. His dialogue was something I kind of wondered how to tackle for a while, before deciding that having him insert his own thoughts into the narration would best illustrate what he’s doing in-universe (reading Small One’s thoughts and then commenting on them by speaking directly into her mind).


	38. Wings

Low vibrations stirred Small One from her restless sleep, leaving her to blink in the darkness of the pre-dawn sky. She let out a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding when she sniffed at the air and found no trace of Twisted One and his aura of malevolence. The vibrations were steadily getting closer, and Small One had a sneaking suspicion she knew what they were. Climbing onto a fallen tree, her talons knocking charred bits of bark free, she peered across the burnt wasteland. Sure enough, Fearless One was approaching, though at a much more even pace now that Twisted One was gone.

Small One knew she should probably join back up with Fearless One so she could get back to the crater, but she wasn’t too sure Fearless One would notice her amidst the desolation of the scorched woodland. Suddenly, Small One chirped to herself, remembering that despite Twisted One and his incessant evil, something good had happened yesterday. She stretched out her wings, admiring the delicate bones that had carried her into the sky so easily. The light wind caressed the tips of her wings, inviting her into the air.

Crouching and coiling her muscles, Small One did what came naturally, without even thinking about it. Her wings opened and pushed at the air like she had been flying all her life. She called out into the air in joy as her wings caught the first morning updrafts and sent her spiralling up into the sky. She was nowhere near as fast or as agile as Furious One, or even Clever One, but she didn’t care because for once she was flying on her own wings, not someone else’s. Nothing short of Twisted One himself returning could ruin this moment for her.

She paused for a few seconds, listening intently for that otherworldly voice.

She sighed in relief at the silence and flexed her wings to drive herself forward, towards Fearless One. As she drew closer, her sharp eyes scanned Fearless One’s back, noting that there were no more dragons riding her. Even Furious One had fled, in the end. She idly wondered if Twisted One had gone to taunt anyone else, or if he had singled her out. Soon, she was close enough to Fearless One for the huge dragon to see her, not that Fearless One would ever think to look up. For a moment, Small One tried to figure out how to angle her wings to go down, before deciding to trust that her wings would know what to do.

Sure enough, she managed to descend towards Fearless One’s back. Unfortunately, she was going much too fast, having not killed enough speed first. She made a clumsy landing on Fearless One’s great back, narrowly avoiding a spiked scale through the chest. Fearless One seemed not to have noticed her, or if she did, she didn’t show it. Taking a moment to catch her breath after the exhilaration of flying without looming death for the first time, Small One stood up and carefully made her way along the swaying red scales until she was sitting just above Fearless One’s earholes.

Fearless One’s ears were so big Small One was sure she could climb inside comfortably. That seemed like something that would upset Fearless One, however, so instead she settled for a soft chirp directly into the living mountain’s ear. Fearless One paused for a moment, before responding in kind with a rumble. Satisfied that her carrier knew she was there, Small One trotted along Fearless One’s snout and settled herself right behind Fearless One’s nose horn. Fearless One’s warm, gentle eyes regarded her with something akin to relief, as though she had been afraid for her.

It disturbed Small One to look into Fearless One’s eyes and see that the familiar, comforting absence of fear was gone. Instead there was a wariness that Small One didn’t like. Fearless One had known fear for the first time in her life, and now she was keeping an eye on the sky in case of Twisted One returning. Small One didn’t blame her. Though it seemed as though nothing could possibly get through Fearless One’s armoured hide, Small One had a feeling that Twisted One could do it if he wanted to. Thankfully, he seemed to have a bone to pick with the death-prey, not the dragons.

Small One stayed on Fearless One’s snout, keeping an eye out for a telltale black shadow, while Fearless One continued her march through ravaged landscapes as she headed back towards the crater. Along the way, some of the dragons who had fled began to trickle back, settling on Fearless One’s back and looking a little ashamed. Though Small One looked around, she couldn’t see Bold One or Clever One anywhere, nor Furious One. It seemed they were still fleeing or hiding from Twisted One.

Fearless One walked onwards, and Small One let her mind whirl with thoughts of black beasts and melted corpses. One thing stuck out in her mind as a certainty: Twisted One was going to have a big impact on the war, but she didn’t have any idea what impact that would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does Small One succeed in taking off again? (Finesse = 7)  
> Small One rolls a 16 (required 13). Success.
> 
> Apologies for any dips in quality tonight. I spent a long day travelling so I’m a bit tired. Also someone asked about White Fatalis, Dire Miralis etc a few chapters back and I totally forgot to answer that question, so sorry about that. They don’t exist yet, from what I’ve understood of their lore and ecology, so we won’t be seeing them for a while.


	39. Challenge

A few days later, by the time Fearless One reached the crater, several more dragons had rejoined her, including Bold One and Clever One. Still, there were significantly less dragons now than there were to start with. There was still no sign of Furious One. Bold One huffed a little bit when Small One puffed out her chest and showed off her newly flight-capable wings. Small One took that to mean that Bold One hadn’t figured it out yet, and she took the opportunity to crow about it gloatingly. When Fearless One flopped down in her usual napping spot, Small One decided to show off by proudly flapping her way down.

Pack hunters scattered and dashed back into their hiding places when the dragons began to spill from Fearless One’s back. They’d had the run of the place while the dragons were gone, by the looks of things. Small One hadn’t eaten more than the scraps of bigger dragon’s kill since setting out on the ill-fated attack, and she was eager to hunt. She chirped to Bold One and tossed her head, a gesture meant as a request to hunt. Bold One quickly chased after Small One, the pair finally getting back into their usual routine of searching for something small enough to kill but big enough to share.

Prey had been scarce even before the march, but now the pack hunters seemed to have mopped up what was left. Not a single hopping furry thing or long prey could be found, no matter where Small One and Bold One searched and sniffed. The long grass was silent, the woodlands were empty, and the lakeshore held nothing but disgusting swimming prey (which Bold One seemed fine with). Growling, Small One found herself right back where she started, next to Fearless One with nothing to show for it. Clever One stuck his tongue out at her, revealing a few insect shells still stuck on it. Bold One hissed and swiped at him half-heartedly.

The trio settled themselves in the flattened grass, Bold One licking dust and rocks from Small One’s snout. Feathered things descended, pecking in the grass for whatever bugs Clever One hadn’t already eaten. Watching the feathered things, Small One realised that beggars probably shouldn’t be choosers. Feathered things were small and bony and covered in tickly feathers, but they were still prey. She stood up as slowly as she could, keeping low to the ground and carefully placing her talons to minimise noise.

A black shape against the green of the grass wasn’t the most subtle thing, unfortunately, and most of the feathered prey kept a suspicious eye on Small One. She gave a slight hiss. No element of surprise, then. She crept slowly towards the feathered things, hoping that they would stop paying attention to her if she made it seem like she was slow-moving. Judging herself to be close enough, she pounced, leaping towards a feathered prey with brilliant blue plumage. Unfortunately, it seemed she had judged incorrectly, the feathered things taking off and scattering in a cacophonous burst of colourful plumage, leaving Small One’s talons empty.

Small One watched them go, before a thought struck her. Quickly unfurling her own wings, she managed to get into the air after a few false starts. She picked one particular feathered thing as her target, one with very long green feathers. Her prey turned out to be much faster than she was, quickly darting into the nearby woodland. She didn’t exactly feel confident enough with her newfound flight to go chasing after it through the trees, so she reluctantly descended and returned to Bold One and Clever One. Bold One had a smug look in her eye, one which Small One chose to pretend she couldn’t see.

The three dragonlings, two of them hungry, sat peacefully on the grass for another while. A few more dragons slunk back into the crater with their tails between their legs, trying to avoid being spotted by the others. Still, though, there was no sign of Furious One. Small One was starting to get a little worried. Had he run into death-prey, or worse, Twisted One? These thoughts and more filled her mind as she whiled away the hours grooming and playing with her companions. When at last the sun set, the trio returned to Fearless One to sleep near her as usual.

Small One had scarcely closed her eyes to drift off when a high-pitched squeal of alarm caught her attention. She opened her eyes to search the darkness, cocking her head when she spotted a panicked alpha pack hunter bolting through the long grass, followed by its pack. Feathered things were fleeing too, even though they slept at night like the dragons. Suddenly, Small One’s skin began to crawl and a lump of dread settled itself in the pit of her stomach. That terribly familiar atmosphere of death and darkness blanketed the crater like a shroud. Next to her, Bold One and Clever One stirred, and Fearless One lifted her head.

**Rise and shine, little dragons!**

Small One recoiled, squeezing her eyes shut and shaking her head against the intense mental voice rattling her skull. Though the voice made no true sound, it was the loudest thing Small One had ever heard. Judging by the reactions of everyone else, she wasn’t the only one hearing it.

**Are you all awake? Good. Listen up because I’ve got something important to tell you. Do try to pay attention. There’ll be a test at the end.**

Small One whipped her head around searching for the black beast she knew was hiding somewhere nearby. She narrowed her eyes at a pair of small golden lights on the opposite edge of the crater. Were those Twisted One’s terrible eyes?

**Oh, alright, I admit it. I lied, there won’t really be a test. But I do need you to listen, so stop searching for ways to run away from me and pay attention.**

Small One kept her gaze firmly on those twin orbs. Twisted One must have followed the dragons back from the castle, and now he knew where their nest was. Now their home wasn’t safe anymore.

**Show of hands, who’s seen that big, pretty tower past the ravine and forest? Oh, silly me, you don’t have those. In that case, stare blankly for yes.**

Small One glared at Twisted One. He was all the way across the crater, so if she ran up the nearest wall and down into the flattened jungle below, she might stand a fighting chance at getting away.

**I’m seeing a lot of blank stares. I am aware that that’s the default expression for most of you, but I’ll just take that as a general yes. And Small One, didn’t I specifically say not to look for ways to run away anymore? You’re failing this class.**

Small One felt her heart race at being singled out. Though it galled her to admit it, she had forgotten that Twisted One could violate her mind and read her thoughts. She decided it was in her best interests to listen to him, in case she invoked his temper.

**Ahem. Now that I’m done dealing with the** **_problem children_ ** **, we can get back to what I was saying before. That big, sparkly tower made out of dead Kushala Daora? I want to level it. It clashes so terribly with the view from my nest. Oh, and it’s also a hive of slavery and crimes against nature. But wouldn’t you agree that spoiling a view is a crime against nature, too?**

Small One nodded along and very pointedly agreed, if only to avoid incurring Twisted One’s wrath.

**Oh, but you see, there are some dragons trapped in there. At the moment I’m afraid it’s not in my job description to inflict wholesale slaughter on dragons, but, well, who’s going to blame me for a little… collateral damage? I assume that most of you would rather not see these random dragons die. So I’ll be nice and offer you a chance to go free them before I knock that place down and kill whatever is still moving in the rubble.**

Small One’s mind raced. The tower where she had been captured. Broken One, and all the other dragons who had been beaten and humiliated. All of them would die by Twisted One’s talons, unless they were freed.

**You have until my addiction to genocide wins out over my desire to not accidentally disrupt the balance of nature even more than it already is. I have no idea how long that will be, so I suggest you get moving.**

The golden orbs winked out, and Twisted One’s voice grew fainter.

**Oh, and don’t worry about clearing this with your glorious leader. I had a nice long chat with him already. I say he gave you the horns up. Whether he actually did or not is irrelevant. Have fun!**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does Small One catch the bird? (Finesse = 7)  
> Small One rolls a 9 (required 13). Failure.
> 
> Couldn’t resist more Fatalis, and I figured that anything between Schrade and the Tower would have wound up being filler anyway. Writing about our friendly local insane omnicidal dragon is too much fun.


	40. March

With Twisted One's ominous message delivered and his malevolent presence rapidly fading, the dragons were left in something of an awkward position. They had no leaders, at present. Furious One was still gone, though apparently Twisted One had seen him. Stern One was missing too, and that left Wise One and Fearless One as the only choices of leader. Small One watched as nearly every dragon awkwardly shuffled to Fearless One's feet and looked up at her expectantly. Fearless One stared down at them for a moment, before letting out a great sigh and roaring, a sound Small One had learned was a call to battle.

Some dragons looked a little put out at having to march again so soon, but they flew up onto Fearless One's great back regardless, settling themselves between her red spines. Fearless One stood up as soon as her back was laden with dragons, but then paused with her foot in the air and gave a questioning rumble. Wise One helpfully supplied a translation. Fearless One didn't actually know where the tower was, and needed directions. Small One's eyes lit up. She could help, here. She made her way down to Fearless One's snout and settled herself between the mountain's eyes, pointing a talon in the right direction. Fearless One began to move, her back swaying from side-to-side and the ground quaking beneath her feet.

Fearless One crawled out from the crater and flattened what little regrowing the jungle had managed to do, steadily walking where Small One had pointed. Small One let her arm fall slack, folding her legs beneath her in anticipation of a slow journey. It had taken Furious One two days to fly between the tower and the crater. Fearless One would take much longer, especially as she would have to find a way around the ravine. Small One could only hope that Twisted One hadn't grown bored of waiting by then.

Unlike before, during the march on the death-prey stronghold, Fearless One was tired. She could not walk for two days straight like she could before, pausing for a nap right when the sun began to rise. Small One took the opportunity to try and hunt with Bold One, but the dried-up swamp offered nothing more than shallow, dirty puddles of water and old bones with rotten marrow. The battles between dragon and death-prey had left the land with great scars and festering wounds, and not a hint of life to be found within. Since there was no prey to be found, Small One returned to Fearless One's snout and allowed herself to collapse into a deep, dreamless sleep.

When she lifted her head and blinked away the last vestiges of slumber, the sun was high in the sky and Fearless One was on the move again. Bold One slept curled up next to Small One, and it appeared that Clever One was still awake and giving Fearless One directions. Small One allowed the brisk wind to wake her up as Fearless One crossed from desolate swamp to barren rockfield. Small One didn't remember the rockfield being particularly lively before, but now any life it may have supported was gone. The once rushing river had been reduced to mere trickle. The desecrated bones of dead dragons lay intertwined with the scattered remains of death-prey, whatever meat they once held long eaten by scavengers.

After a few days of trudging with only a few breaks, Fearless One left the rockfield and its boneyard behind. But the sprawling grassland beyond was just as broken. Fresh grass struggled to sprout in the swirling ash, ash that left Fearless One's feet stained black and greasy. Fearless One settled herself for another nap, coating her creamy belly in soot. Small One shuffled her way around the ashfield, sniffing around for anything alive enough to eat, but the acrid stench of ash snuffed out any hope she had of catching a meal. After a full day's rest, the dragons were ready to move on, the gnawing in Small One's belly only growing stronger.

The ashen wasteland was eventually left behind by Fearless One's steady march, and all the while Small One could think only of Furious One, and of the tower. Their journey was taking a great many days. Had Twisted One destroyed the tower already? Was it already too late for Broken One and all the other dragons? Small One's thoughts were forced from her head when Fearless One stopped. Small One peered over the great dragon's snout, her heart doing strange things in her chest when she realised that the obstacle that stood before them was Small One's old ravine. Examining it with a critical eye, Small One was pleased to see that it didn't appear to be too ravaged. The river still ran, and the walls were still standing, if missing a few stones near the top.

Still, there was now the issue of how to cross it. Small One tried to remember which direction she had walked to reach the forest, so long ago. Leaning out over the very tip of Fearless One's snout, she followed the river with her eyes, watching it flow along its course. She remembered, in her fresh-from-the-egg foolishness, attempting to speak to the river, but that she had followed it from where it came from. Chirping and gesturing with her talon, Small One showed Fearless One the way to go, and the great dragon slowly turned herself around to walk along the ravine. It took a long time, at mountain speeds, but Small One puffed out her chest as her memory proved true, and the ravine narrowed to a point where it was thin enough for Fearless One to simply step across.

The old forest she had hidden and hunted in seemed largely unharmed, though there were a few more fallen trees than she remembered. Fearless One's passing through sent mighty, centuries old trees crashing down. When the mountain dragon settled herself down to rest, Small One relished in the sound of life finally chiming through the trees. At last, she and Bold One were able to satisfy their hunger, and Clever One managed to catch enough bugs to keep himself full for a while. Small One was almost disappointed when it was time to get moving again. Soon, as Fearless One stomped along, the very tip of the tower came into hazy view on the horizon.

Small One's scales bristled. They had come here on Twisted One's word, without a plan or any real leader. There were even fewer dragons now than there were for the stronghold attack, and unless some other dragons had killed it already, a living corpse dwelled within the tower's depths. They were still at least a day's walk out, at Fearless One's speeds, but Small One had a deep-seated feeling that the next day would be one to remember, for better or for worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does Small One remember which way she followed the river? (Intelligence = 11)  
> Small One rolls a 16 (required 9). Success.
> 
> Another slow, transitional chapter. I know they’re probably boring, but the pacing would be all kinds of bad if they weren’t in here.
> 
> Also, for the very first time, an AO3 reader has actually asked a question. Usually it’s the FF people who have questions for me. To answer your question, the Ancient Civilisation are stated in the lore to have been highly advanced and have built complex machines. The designs for the modern day Gunlance, Charge Blade, and Switch Axe are all based on old blueprints from the Ancient Civilisation. The Artian armour and most of the Rusted/Worn weapons are also thought to have been left behind by the Ancient Civilisation.


	41. Rescue

Small One glared at the tower even as Fearless One drew closer to it. The mere sight of its glistening outer walls set her teeth on edge, her ears pricking to the sound of death-prey shouting. Fearless One bellowed a roar at them, rearing up to allow spears to bounce harmlessly from her armoured belly. Small One dug her talons into Fearless One’s snout and held her wings out for balance, as the dragons riding Fearless One’s back spread their wings and took off, flying as a shrieking mass towards the tower.

Small One chirped to Bold One and Clever One, spreading her wings. Bold One glared at her for a moment, before a pensive look overtook her. Unfortunately, the hail of spears was getting harder to avoid, and Small One needed to move. Bold One would have to figure her own way off of Fearless One. Leaping from the great mountain’s snout, Small One just barely managed to avoid a launched net before she opened her wings in a glide, soaring straight for a window with an excited-looking hardskin guarding it. A cheerful meow caught her attention from below. Small One’s eyes widened at the sight of Bold One gliding along below her, somewhat unsteady but flying nonetheless. Small One chirped to her, as did Clever One, just before Small One tucked her wings in to dive towards the window.

Still, as she flew towards the window, she noticed something odd about the noises of the death-prey. The ones below her sounded angry, and their shouts were mixed with the voices of the dragons who charged at them. But the ones above her, at the top of the tower sounded… terrified. A shudder ran along Small One’s spine as she risked a glance up at the arena. Sure enough, a serpentine figure was perched atop the tower, spewing white-hot flame straight into the arena.

**Oh, are you dragons** **_finally_ ** **here? I told you that you had until I couldn’t resist a mass slaughter, and you should know how much I love a good slaughter. You should invest in a faster dragon to carry you.**

Small One’s eyes narrowed to pinpricks at the sound of Twisted One’s voice. The black beast lashed his tail like a whip, sending a death-prey hurtling towards the ground below. Small One gave serious consideration to the idea of simply turning around and fleeing. Twisted One was here and he had already started his conquest. What would even be the point of staying to fight? Suddenly, a flash of blue threw itself through the window with a defiant shriek. Small One shook her head to clear her thoughts as Bold One began attacking the hardskin’s chain with all her might. Twisted One hadn’t destroyed the tower yet. All they had to do was free the dragons before he brought the whole place crashing down.

With a war-cry of her own, Small One dove to Bold One’s aid, adding her own teeth and talons to the effort. The hardskin shifted himself from foot to foot, nervously glancing out the window every now and then. Despite Small One and Bold One’s best efforts, the chain held firm. Clever One squawked and shot his tongue out at the chain’s anchor point, tugging at the anchor with all his might. Small One quickly rushed over to help him, joined by Bold One. Working together, the three slowly but surely heaved the metal anchor from the ground. With one last burst of effort, the anchor came free, and the hardskin wasted no time in leaping from the window, fleeing into the air with the chain dangling from its neck.

Small One puffed her chest out and chirped to her companions to follow as she ran down the hallway. The air was growing hot, and the death-prey seemed mostly concentrated at the roof and on the ground, where the main battles were. Fearless One’s mighty roars echoed through the corridors, shaking the tower to its foundations. Small One rushed to the next window, and with it the next dragon, ignoring the chain and going straight for the anchor point. The firemane was quickly freed, choosing to dive down and join the battle at the base of the tower.

**Ooh, you just cut one of my horns off! Try making a sword out of it. I promise it won’t eat your soul.**

Twisted One’s gleeful shouts muddled Small One’s thoughts, as the black beast mocked the death-prey who challenged him. He seemed awfully nonchalant about the battle he was in, but then again, Small One supposed he didn’t have much to fear. With each dragon they freed, they either gained a new fighter or simply set an innocent free, and the trio made their slow way down the tower, even as the sounds of battle and burning from above grew louder. The air was almost too hot for Small One to breathe, now, and Clever One wheezed and winced with each step he took. Bold One, unaffected by the heat in the air, took the lead.

Suddenly, Bold One skidded to a halt, baring her teeth at a death-prey who stood in her way. It seemed surprised to see three young dragons staring it down, but it quickly drew what looked like a wyvern head on a stick and brandished it. Small One examined its armour for any possible weaknesses among the monster scales it wore. Spotting an exposed area, Small One crouched into an aggressive posture. When the death-prey came swinging, Small One leapt with jaws outstretched to the one unarmoured patch on its body, directly between its legs. She clamped her jaws down on the flimsy hide it wore, unrelenting even as it screeched and slapped at her. When at last she let go, the death-prey lay prone on the ground. It probably wasn’t dead, but that didn’t matter.

Leaving the twitching death-prey behind, Small One and Bold One continued freeing every dragon they came across. Clearskins, hardskins, firemanes, even a chained-up silverscale, all were freed and sent to join the battle. The sound of falling stone, and the distorted warbling of a living corpse echoed from above.

**An Equal Dragon Weapon? Sure, I could use a toothpick.**

Small One grit her teeth and shook her head against Twisted One’s voice, redoubling her efforts to run down the tower’s seemingly endless spiral. Thankfully, the heat coming from Twisted One’s breath subsided the further down they ran. Soon, the sounds of battle from below caught up with them, and they found themselves in the middle of a brawl between death-prey and all manner of dragon, some with chains still hanging from their necks. Firemanes set off huge blasts of wing dust which were carried off by wind from hardskins. Clearskins snatched weapons and tripped death-prey with their long, sticky tongues. A few dragons lay bleeding on the ground, as did several death-prey.

Small One swung her head around, searching for the old corridor she had gotten to know so well in her time at the tower. The stench of despair was what ultimately lead her true. She jerked her head towards the darkened hallway, rushing past the raging battle and down into the bowels of the tower. Some of the cages were empty, but many were occupied. Clever One quickly set about trying to undo the locks, while Bold One tried to ram them open with her horns. The dragons within helped as much as their chains would allow them to, but progress was slow.

**Oh, my dear, if you want to go on a date that badly, you just have to ask. There’s no need to rip my heart right out of my chest. I suppose it’s alright. I didn’t need it, anyway.**

Once again shaking her head to clear the outside thoughts, Small One found herself hoping beyond hope that Twisted One was merely taunting his opponents, and that his heart hadn’t  _ really  _ been pulled out. If it had, and the beast still breathed, then he was a creature far more unnatural than a living corpse could ever hope to be. Another explosion rocked the tower, followed by the rumbling sound of falling stone and the clanging of metal.

**Oops. I killed your dead thing and made it even deader than before. It happens. If the dragons attacking the base of the tower could please hurry up? I have some bodies to melt, but when I’m done with that, this place is going down.**

Small One’s heart pounded in her chest. Twisted One was going to start bringing the tower down for good, and they hadn’t even freed half of the dragons in the dungeon yet. Rushing down the hallway in search of something, anything that could help speed the process up, Small One’s ears perked to the sound of a soft whimper. She followed the sound as best she could amidst the roaring of battle from above, pausing when she finally came upon the source. A death-prey, with a long, dark mane, curled up on itself at the end of the corridor. It had been a while, but Small One recognised it.

It was the kind master. It looked up at Small One, and she saw its eyes widen in recognition. It reached at tentative hand out towards her, but flinched away when Small One reflexively snapped at it. Small One couldn’t help but notice how much smaller and more vulnerable it looked now. It was still larger than her, but it no longer towered over her. Killing it in revenge for all her abuse would be a trivial matter. It lacked even the most basic of protections against her fangs and claws. It would be easy.

But it had, in its own way, done its absolute best to make her miserable captivity as comfortable as possible. And it had carried her away from the abomination on the night when Furious One came. Small One shut her mouth and turned her back on the kind master. Twisted One would inevitably kill it, she was sure, but she would not. As Small One turned to try and help her companions out some more, she heard a faint rustling behind her. The kind master had stood up, and, with encrusted streaks running from its eyes, reached out a hand to show several small metal objects in its grip.

**I’ve finished putting on my new armour! I hope you’re ready, because it’s wrecking time!**

Small One shook her head, and even the kind master seemed to flinch at the weight of Twisted One’s words. Small One watched it run to where Bold One and Clever One still fought with the cage door, waving its hands to try and calm the two dragonlings down. With unmatched dexterity, it fiddled with the lock for a moment and flung the door open, rushing in and undoing the clearskin within’s collar before she had time to move. Scarcely waiting for a reaction, it moved on to the next cage, and did the same for the hardskin it held. One by one, it opened the doors and freed the dragons, giving them the chance to flee, looking somewhat confused. When at last all the dragons were free, it looked Small One right in the eyes.

Small One looked back at it, and though its gaze was unreadable still, for just a moment the smell of death lightened, just enough, for Small One to catch the muted, sweet scent of a female, and the smell of a fresh summer’s breeze. The kind master nodded her head and pointed to the bright end of the corridor. Small One, casting one last look at the unreadable death-prey, followed the fleeing adults out into the light. 

The sound of crumbling stone, which had tumbled quietly in the background, now intensified to a great roar. Twisted One’s screeching voice called out for death, and the crackling sound of flames grew more and more intense, and the heat encroached to even the lowest levels of the tower. Dragon and death-prey alike had ceased their warring, all charging towards the shattered doors and their promise of freedom. Small One and her two companions took advantage of their small size, leaping across the backs of stampeding dragons to get through the crowd faster.

Once they were out in the open air, Small One quickly took to the sky, as did the other dragons, both free and freed. Small One scanned the swarm, but she saw no sign of Broken One, or indeed, any of the other adult dragons she saw while at the tower. Twisted One’s gleeful shrieking as he pulled steel from stone and set the whole place alight sent shivers down Small One’s spine. Crowds of death-prey scrambled along the ground to get away, but Small One had no doubt that most of them would be picked off by Twisted One at his leisure.

As Small One left the flaming husk of the tower behind, she just hoped the kind master was one of those lucky enough to escape his wrath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have the dragons arrived before Twisted One has begun destroying the tower? (Luck = 10)
> 
> Small One rolls an 8 (required 10). Failure.  
> Can Small One pull up the chain’s anchor point? (Strength = 7)
> 
> Bold One’s help affects Small One’s roll (+2)  
> Clever One’s help affects Small One’s roll (+1)  
> Small One rolls a 17 + 2 + 1 = 20 (required 13). Success.
> 
> Does Small One identify the death-prey’s weak spot? (Intelligence = 11)  
> Small One rolls a 10 (required 9). Success.
> 
> A scene got cut from this chapter, if you can believe it. It was a scene in which Small One discovered the lab where the Equal Dragon Weapons were built, and it was cut because it didn’t mesh with the flow and frantic tone of the chapter as a whole, and because it came off as a massive exposition dump that would probably have been as boring to read as it was to write.
> 
> Also, I’m glad that there are in fact people reading this version of the story. The vast majority of my readers are on the Fanfiction.net version, so it’s good to know that my efforts posting it here don’t go unnoticed.


	42. War’s End

After the tower fell, Small One found that the dragons were becoming increasingly obsolete in the war. They would fly out, with what few dragons who were willing to come along, soar across the ravaged landscape, and arrive at their destination only to find that Twisted One had already beaten them to it. Sometimes he left bodies. Sometimes he left things which could only charitably be called bodies. Mostly, he carried on his mocking ways and melded the fallen with his own hide. She caught sight of him, on one occasion, not long after the tower fell, and did her best to ignore the regrowing horn and the rapidly sealing hole in his chest.

Death-prey no longer sent their metal beasts to the crater. After a while, there were simply no more nests left to try and attack. Twisted One knew what he was doing, completely and thoroughly obliterating death-prey wherever he went. Small One would almost be tempted to call him a dark and vengeful god, except that Furious One could strike fear into the hearts of gods, but not Twisted One. Twisted One was something greater, more primal, and he craved ash and fire and revelled in hatred and bloodshed.

At some point, Wise One declared that all the dragons in the crater should wait, and not fly out on assaults, until Furious One returned from wherever he had gone. She declared that they would wait a month for him. One month became two, then three, then six, then twelve, and still Furious One never returned. Gradually, the crater emptied of dragons, its supply of prey exhausted, until only Fearless One was left in her favourite sleeping spot. Small One had gotten quite good at catching feathered things, but they were sustaining her less and less as she grew. Even Bold One seemed to have tired of swimming prey, and Clever One had finally run out of bugs to eat. When that happened, the trio resorted to ambushing pack hunters.

One full year after the battle at the tower, Small One was not as small as she used to be. Her frame was slender, more lithe than the stubby figure she’d had as a hatchling, but bristling with muscles just waiting to reach their full potential. The proud horns which crowned her head were now long and sharp enough to be used in battle, but not quite at the point where the world’s energy would bend to them. Little stubs had become full-blown tusks, and tiny, barely-working wings were now much broader and stronger. She would have enjoyed comparing herself to Furious One, if he were there.

But he wasn’t there, and hadn’t been for a long time. There were only so many feathered things and pack hunters left, and they weren’t enough to keep three rapidly growing yearlings alive. It was a soundless agreement one overcast morning, when hunting yielded exactly one meagre kill, that the three steadfast companions spread their wings and flew away. As Small One pulled at the air with her wings, she looked back at what had once seemed like an impossibly large paradise. The sparkling lake and the swaying grass had mostly been spared the ravages of war, but the metal beasts had always managed to make a few attacks stick before they were pulled apart by Fearless One.

Fearless One herself watched the three dragons as they flew away, tracking them with her gentle gaze. She was the only dragon left in the crater now, with all the others having given up on waiting, given up on war when there were no enemies left to fight and no leader to inspire. Small One wondered if Fearless One would stay in the crater, taking her long naps and crunching on rocks when she got hungry, or if she too would leave one day and the crater would once more belong to the pack hunters and the lake monsters. Maybe Fearless One would just be another part of the mountain, someday.

Eventually, the ridges of the mountains caught up with Small One and the others, and Fearless One was lost from their sight. Small One scanned the land below, but it had given up all pretense of being a jungle and swamp, and lay as a graveyard for rotting trees that sat atop dry, cracked mudflats. Life was a distant memory for the ruined world. Small One remembered from the march on the tower that the situation wasn’t any better straight ahead. It had probably gotten even worse since then. Chittering to the others, Small One veered away, towards the rising sun. The dragons had not often flown out that way, because it lead to a desert and there simply weren’t many death-prey living there. A desert had the potential to be more lively than what used to be savannahs and forests.

Bold One and Clever One followed her without argument. She suspected they knew just as well as she that they wouldn’t find a place to live safely and contentedly if they kept to their old stomping grounds. At the very least, most of the ash had been carried off by the wind. The air was completely empty as the trio flew across the desolated land, with not a single dragon or wyvern to be seen. Small One remembered a time when the crater was so full of dragons that it was hard enough finding a place to sleep near Fearless One, or listening to Furious One when he spoke. That had ceased being an issue quite quickly when the war started proper.

The only sounds were the rushing wind and the occasional wingbeat. No matter how far they flew, Small One never saw anything that even resembled a place they could stay, or anything that looked alive enough to eat. Eventually, the sun went down and they were forced to rest whether they wanted to or not, touching down in a rocky pile of scree, where some of the rocks had been charred black by something’s fire, and little shards of metal glinted in the fading sunlight. Looking around, Small One couldn’t see any hints of a nest, either dragon or death-prey, ever having been there in the first place. It seemed that fights had just erupted wherever dragons and death-prey happened to accidentally meet, wherever that might be.

The naked stones offered little shelter from the wind and cold, but Bold One radiated enough heat for everyone, putting up her usual show of grumbling when the other two threw themselves across her to sleep. Some part of Small One wondered if leaving the crater had been a mistake, but in her heart she knew there was nothing left for her there. Furious One wasn’t coming back. He had left her, and everyone else, just like her Mother had so long ago. She looked at the stars, barely visible through the clouds and ash, as her eyes slipped shut, allowing her to rest for another day of wandering the dead world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’know this wasn’t supposed to be so melancholy, but I suppose it fits. It’s the end of our first major arc, after all, and the world is stated to have gone to hell after the Great Dragon War.
> 
> But hey, there’s just a little bit of cute dragon cuddling near the end in an attempt to balance it out.


	43. Warm Sands

The three dragons were hungry and tired after days of nonstop flying across a dying world. Rivers had been reduced to putrid trickles that left the insides of their mouths coated in dust. Every now and then a gaunt, ravenous wyvern would appear in the sky, diving for them with talons outstretched, but it was a matter of avoiding their haphazard strikes or hiding in a crevice for safety. At one point, they happened upon the carcass of a fanged wyvern with blue fur and yellow shells, but sniffing at it found it too rotten to eat. Eventually, the ashen lands turned to golden sands.

Compared to the scorched desolation around the mountains and grasslands, the desert looked like a haven of life. The air shimmered from heat, and the light reflecting off the sand to glare in Small One’s eyes. But the sand was alive with leaping sand-swimmers, some yellow with green fins and others brown with legs. It seemed the death-prey hadn’t bothered using the desert for their nests. Too flat and barren for them, she supposed. The heat rising from below felt pleasant against her scales, though Clever One didn’t look like he was enjoying it very much. The beating sun, on the other hand, was rapidly burning her back as her black scales soaked up its rays.

She peered across the shimmering sands in search of something that could be used as shade against the sun. Across the vast, flat stretch of desert, a darker blob caught her attention. Squinting at it, it seemed to be a ridge of rock. She chirped to her companions, who wearily glided along behind her. At the very least, the rising heat provided plenty of free lift that made for easy soaring. As she flew towards the rocks, she scanned the sand, watching the sand-swimmers as they danced about and left switching clouds of dust in their wake. The sand seemed oddly still, and the lack of wind was rather disconcerting. Small One imagined it would have been quite difficult to fly were it not for the rising thermals.

Vaguely, she remembered Furious One telling her about the great rockback dragons who swam in the sand and stirred the wind to move the grains about in great storms. It seemed like even if the death-prey hadn’t established a foothold here, their influence had still reached this far, if the sand was any indication. But the land was mostly unmarred, aside from that unnatural stillness. The rocks were much further away than she had initially thought. The flat landscape gave the illusion of closeness. But eventually, the small rocky outcropping came into proper focus, and the three tired dragons took to the shade with glee, lying against the cooler sand and panting.

While waiting for the merciless sun to go away, Small One examined the cracks in the rock and the soft, loose sand, sharp eyes scanning for anything that looked like it might be edible. Shelled creatures with many legs scuttled about, digging in the sand with large pincers. She wondered if they were edible, but finding that out would require getting through the shell somehow. They didn’t look particularly appetising, what with their spindly legs and hard carapace. Clever One looked like he was seriously considering having a go at them. Small One supposed they were just like large bugs, though they were a bit big for Clever One’s sticky tongue to snatch up. One of them caught the dragons staring and snipped its claws at them, making an odd chittering noise and waving its antennae. Small One took that as a warning to leave them be.

The sun seemed determined to move at a slower pace than usual, and the trio of dragons followed the patch of shade as it moved along the ground. Eventually the heat became too much even for the shelled creatures, who burrowed into the ground to escape the burning sun. At last, the sun was low enough in the sky that the air had cooled a bit, enough that it was no longer painful to fly. Small One shook out her wings and chirped to her two dozing companions, stirring them to action. They had a limited amount of time before it became too dark to hunt, and in that time they needed to catch something big enough for all three of them.

Taking to the air, Small One searched the sand for anything that looked like it might be easy to kill. Schools of yellow sand-jumpers looked too fast to be caught easily. The big brown sand-swimmers, on the other claw, looked a little slower, a little easier to hunt down. Flying above the school of sand-swimmers, Small One watched her shadow race them as she wondered how best to go about catching one. As they swam, only their fins poked out, and the sand they kicked up made it difficult to keep track of where they were.

Bold One, not wasting any time, dove straight after the sand-swimmers. The school scattered, breaking off in different directions and kicking up even more dust. Small One followed her friend at a rapid clip, Clever One following behind with slightly less enthusiasm. The sand swimmer they were chasing dove beneath the sand, leaving only a small ridge of risen sand to show it had ever been there in the first place. Stalling above where it had last been, Small One looked around. Unfortunately, all of the other sand-swimmers had dug away too. Snarling, Small One loosed a screeching roar of frustration.

To her surprise, a sand-swimmer erupted from the ground a short distance away, trembling and whimpering. Small One pulled her lips back in a wicked sneer, folding her wings and throwing herself at her unfortunate prey, grabbing it by the tail just as it made to dive back into the sand. Though the creature was bigger than her, its hide was thin and weak. Killing it was easy, particularly when Bold One flew down to help. Once the thing was dead, Small One and Bold dug into their first true meal for a very long time. Even Clever One took a few bites, though from the way he held his tongue, he didn’t like to all that much. Though the brown sand creature had reminded Small One of a swimming prey, its meat was good and plentiful.

When the trio had eaten their fill, they dragged the carcass back to the shelter of the rocks, curling up to sleep with bellies full. A desert wasn’t exactly the best place for young dragons to grow up, but honestly Small One would settle for it, if only because there was nowhere better. And besides, she had learned a trick for easily catching sand-swimmers. They would make far better prey than mere feathered things and pack hunters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does Small One catch the brown sand-swimmer? (Finesse = 7)  
> Small One rolls a 14 (required 13). Success.
> 
> Super close to being late, and this may be not very good since I was pretty distracted while writing it (I was in a voice call with friends). On the plus side, the mystery story I’ve been hyping up is out now. It’s called “The Soul-Songs of Illincara”, and if you like a whodunit I encourage you to try and crack the mystery. So far, no one has solved it.


	44. Old Enemies

Sand flowed and blurred Small One’s days together. In the unchanging desert, she could scarce tell the difference between the warm season and the cold season. But as the sand flowed, so too did time. Five full years passed, seemingly in the blink of an eye. To Small One’s surprise, Bold One and Clever One stayed with her, even as the harsh sun and burning air seemed to be doing Clever One no favours. They hunted sand-swimmers and sand-jumpers as they explored the vast desert. They found oases where horned wyverns fought, muddy puddles where wyverns with large heads spent their days rolling around, and canyons where aggressive, sharp-scaled wyverns staked their territory, roaring and rattling at any who dared approach.

Yet despite the abundance of wyverns and beasts, in all five years Small One and her companions saw exactly one dragon. In a place where the land was perfectly flat, without a single rock or stray tree to be found for leagues, where the sand was so loose that attempting to walk resulted in rapid sinking, Small One saw a dragon so vast it almost rivalled Fearless One in size. His body had been streamlined, with a great fluke of a tail and spiked, rocky hide protecting his back. The sheer force of his breath sent rocks flying into the air, and occasionally he twirled and dove into the sand, seeming to disappear until his single proud horn erupted from the sand once more. 

He had dragged behind him a sandstorm so thick it blotted out all light for as long as Small One let herself be caught in it. Grains of sand bit into her hide and left her covered in a multitude of shallow scratches, and catching a breath was a difficult prospect when each inhale brought nothing but sand. When at last the storm passed, the rockback was gone, and it took Small One quite a while to find Bold One and Clever One again. In the wake of the storm, countless sand-jumpers and annoying little poison-spitting wyverns flocked to the area, sifting through the freshly turned sand and gorging themselves on whatever they found. The dragons took advantage of that, too, and had themselves a fine day of hunting.

Small One wondered, the day they saw the rockback, how the desert creatures would fare in the long run with so few dragons to churn the sand up. They didn’t see the rockback again, though Small One would admit that they didn’t often venture out into the great sea of sand. Instead, they focused mainly on places near the fringes of the desert. In the five years they lived there, they steadily grew from yearlings to proper juveniles. Though she didn’t have one on claw to measure up against, Small One was fairly sure she was taller than a death-prey, now. Bold One, while not quite as tall as Small One, was strong and swift, and had learned how to command flames. The old wound across her eye didn’t seem to impede her too much, even if she was half-blind because of it. Clever One hadn’t changed all too much, at least not that Small One noticed. His horn had regrown partially, though it was nowhere near as long as it used to be.

To Small One’s eternal frustration, attempting to channel energy through her impressive horns yielded nothing but a headache. Trying to conjure dragon energy in her claws or breathe fire similarly failed. Bold One seemed to enjoy having something to lord over her, often teasing her by demonstrating expertly-controlled streams of flame. Bold One managed to sear a small stretch of sand so thoroughly that it melted, and hardened into a brittle material that was fun to smash but left bleeding cuts on Small One’s feet. Unfortunately, Bold One’s fire breath wasn’t all that useful when hunting desert prey. Most of the desert dwellers seemed to have some degree of immunity to heat. In situations where talons weren’t enough, Clever One’s poison was far more useful than Bold One’s flame, something which set the two light-heartedly playfighting on occasion.

One morning, the local pod of sand-swimmers seemed to have left the area. Small One wasn’t too surprised by that. They often tried to flee when they realised that they were easy prey for hungry dragons. It was simply a matter of spotting their subtle trails and following them wherever they happened to have fled. On this particular morning, however, they had gone much further than usual. Their flight took them to the very edge of the desert, where the sand turned to dark, sun-baked rock and the ashen world was visible beyond, if one squinted. Small One was pleased to see that the saplings which had taken root in the loose soil seemed to be growing bigger. Perhaps some day, a forest would stand there once more.

As Small One kept a close eye on the ridges in the sand, a sharp, throaty sound from Bold One caught her attention. She lifted her head and followed Bold One’s gaze. In the distance, shimmering in the morning heat, a few odd-looking, lopsided structures stood in a cluster. Curiosity piqued, Small One chirped, abandoning the sand-swimmer trail in favour of investigating the structures. She looked behind to see if Bold One and Clever One were following, but it seemed their hunger outweighed their curiosity. The dark piles came into sharper focus the closer she got, and Small One found herself quirking her head as she took in their details.

They looked to be made of dry, mismatched bits of wood and hastily stabilised with stones. Palm fronds were draped over the tops of them, some of the dry leaves looking like they were ready to burst into flame at any minute. And in between, Small One was surprised to see little figures scuttling between the structures. When she stalled in the air just above the cluster, she watched, mesmerised, as a small colony of death-prey went about their business. She hadn’t seen any in years, nor any hint of their existence, and had assumed that Twisted One had simply killed them all. It seemed like something he would do.

They looked so much worse for the wear than any death-prey Small One remembered seeing before. Instead of hard suits of armour and weapons forged from dragon scales, these death-prey wore simple, ragged-looking bits of hide or leaves, or seemingly whatever happened to be in reach. Many of them looked gaunt and frail, with tangled manes and hollow eyes, and Small One realised that the lopsided, barely-standing shelters were intended to be nests. Small One grinned, showing off her many teeth. Oh how the mighty had fallen. She dipped lower in the sky and flew just a little closer, allowing her shadow to pass over the nests.

At once, she got a reaction. As soon as her shadow fell on the sand, the death-prey looked up with fear in their eyes. Fear turned to blind panic when they realised that it was no mere wyvern flying above them. Small One rumbled to herself, watching the death-prey frantically scramble to get into their flimsy nests and hide. Her wings sent sand scattering and spraying onto the dry wood as she descended, landing on the ground and flexing her talons. They seemed to carry less of the stench of death, and that allowed her to smell their fear completely. Casually, Small One took her time wandering around the cluster of homes, sniffing about and occasionally tapping a wall with a talon. The panicked gasps of terrified death prey filled her with a sense of power that not even hunting could match.

The nests didn’t have very sturdy means of blocking the doors, allowing Small One to pull them off with ease and shove her snout into the nests. One nest held a terrified female and two hatchlings, trails of bitter water running from their eyes when Small One stuck her head in. She had no intention of killing them right now, but they didn’t need to know that. Having eyed the family long enough, she reached in with a talon to snatch the female up and drag her out into the open. The screams from the hatchlings were shrill and annoying, but Small One put up with them just long enough to stand the death-prey up against herself. Pleased to see that she was, in fact, taller than them now, she slackened her grip and allowed the female to run back into her nest and soothe the obnoxious hatchlings.

After terrifying a few more death-prey, Small One found herself growing bored. Taking to the air once more with a quick beat of her wings, she left the tiny hovels behind, a random gust of wind carrying her away as if the colony itself had breathed a sigh of relief. She was hungry, and she knew from prior experience that death-prey didn’t taste particularly pleasant. Far better to search the sky for blobs of blue and purple so she could rejoin the hunt. When she caught up with Bold One and Clever One, they had already managed to catch a sand-swimmer. When the three were finished with their meal, Small One made a mental note of where the death-prey nests were.

After all, she wanted to remember where to go when she was bored.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small One’s stats have increased:  
> 5 months old > 6 years, 5 months old  
> Strength 7 > 9  
> Finesse 7 > 9  
> Element 0 = 0  
> Intelligence 11 > 12  
> Luck 10 = 10
> 
>  
> 
> Bold One’s stats have increased:  
> 5 months old > 6 years, 5 months old  
> Strength 7 > 10  
> Finesse 4 > 6  
> Element 2 > 7  
> Intelligence 7 > 9  
> Luck 10 = 10
> 
>  
> 
> Clever One’s stats have increased  
> 2 years 5 months old > 7 years, 5 months old  
> Strength 4 > 6  
> Finesse 8 > 11  
> Element 5 > 9  
> Intelligence 15 = 15  
> Luck 10 = 10
> 
> Stat boost time! It’s been five years, they’ve levelled up at least a few times in all this time.


	45. Flesh Offering

For the next few weeks, Small One enjoyed terrorising the death-prey in their nests. On occasion, she shattered a flimsy nest or two and relished in the sight of true fear in their eyes. She brought Bold One and Clever One along too, and the panic that set in when Bold One gnashed her teeth and threatened to set the whole dry heap alight was highly entertaining. Kicking sand, spraying mist, and lashing tails at the death-prey served to amuse the trio of dragons when they weren’t hunting. Small One was worried that they would gain the courage to attack, but they never did. Not that she was complaining.

But after a while, something odd happened. One day, Small One flew in, tired and grouchy but too hot to rest with the other two. As usual, the death-prey fled at the sight of her, but as soon as she touched down and began to think about how she would frighten them today, they tentatively poked their heads around the door frames (most of them no longer had actual doors). Small One eyed them suspiciously, tending herself in case one decided to draw a weapon on her. 

To her surprise, one stepped out into the open air, a male if she was smelling correctly. It bowed its head low and garbled at her. That was another thing Small One had noticed. They often erupted into panicked garbles when she landed. There was one particular sound they always made when they saw her: ‘ _ Alatreon’ _ . She liked to think it was a sound of terror, as it was often accompanied by spikes of panic. On this day, however, the sound carried undertones of… reverence? As the death-prey dipped its head in submission, Small One strode up to him, holding her head as high as she could and splaying her wings out in a gesture of dominance. He tensed up, and Small One could see him trembling, smell the extra sweat. But he held firm, which Small One begrudgingly admired.

He repeated that sound,  _ Alatreon _ , again, then pressed himself flat against the burning sand, face down. Small One quirked her head. Was he trying to die and wanted her to do the job for him? She snorted. She might have killed him any other day, but since he was asking for it, she wouldn’t oblige. Spite was a powerful thing. She gave a sharp screech, drawing hastily muffled gasps from nearby hovels. She walked to the nearest lopsided nest, ignoring the bowing death-prey, and shoved her head in. The trio of death-prey inside quickly garbled that familiar sound, then bowed, chattering away with more sounds Small One didn’t understand. Pulling her head out, she saw the one who had first stepped forward was still bowing.

She repeated the experiment a few more times, sticking her head into the little structures and receiving frantic garbles and hasty bowing. Chirping quizzically, she sniffed at the air and listened to the tones of the garbling. The deep-seated panic was still very much there, but now it was accompanied by awe and reverence. Were the death-prey actually acknowledging that she was stronger than them? She decided to test this by studying the one who still bowed on the sand. He surely had to be suffering burns at this point, but he hadn’t moved to get up. Sure enough, approaching him and doing things such as growling, snapping, or spreading her wings lead to him flattening himself out even more. He was  _ submitting  _ to her. They all were.

Some part of Small One scoffed at the idea that they had ever thought themselves her equal in the first place. The death-prey of five years ago could have killed her, but not these pitiful, frail creatures. Placing a talon on the bowing male’s back, Small One pressed him into the sand even more, ignoring the muffled cries of pain and the thin rivulets of blood. She could have killed him. Very easily, in fact. But in some way, asserting her dominance over him felt much more… correct. More fitting. His kind had dominated dragons for years. Now it was their turn.

Small One flew away that day a contemplative dragon. From then on, when the dragons visited, the death-prey would all bow down, garbling that sound again. Each time they visited, the fear began to fade, and the reverence only grew. After a while, the death-prey began leaving small offerings to Small One. It started with little chunks of meat. Then entire sand-jumpers. Occasionally they would present her with a sand-swimmer. Small One was wary of eating the offered carcasses at first, but she was fairly confident that she had terrified them to the point where they wouldn’t dare to incur her wrath by tampering with the meat. She was glad to be proved right. With terrified death-prey leaving carcasses out for them, the three dragons found they were a good source of free food when hunting was poor.

One day, Small One landed, alone, wondering what the death-prey would try to give her today. Her eyes widened when, instead of bowing like they usually did, a team of about six battered looking death-prey worked together to drag the corpse of a two-horned wyvern up to her. Small One was astounded. Even she and her companions hasn’t dared to challenge one of the ill-tempered screaming wyverns yet. Out of curiosity, she walked up to the carcass, snarling at the death-prey to keep them in line. They may have managed to kill a powerful wyvern, but that didn’t mean she would allow them to think they were greater than she. She peeled the wyvern’s hard shell away and dug into its flesh, admiring the odd, slightly sweet flavour.

The death-prey kept their gazes low as she devoured their offering, some garbling in low, rhythmic whispers. Small One let the blood run from between her teeth. She could handle this new arrangement with the death-prey, she was sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do the death-prey make offerings to Small One? (Luck = 10)  
> Small One rolls a 20 (required 10). Critical Success.
> 
> Gotta love the dice and how it can cause the entire story to take a left turn off the road and into unexpected territory. That critical success seems to have caused something of an Alatreon cult to spring up.


	46. Old Horizons

Taking advantage of the death-prey’s spinelessness made for easy eating, but Small One had to admit they weren’t nearly so entertaining now that they worshiped her rather than fearing her. Shifting a little on the burning sand to keep up with the patch of shade (and earning a disgruntled squawk from Clever One in the process), Small One looked up at the cloudless sky. A pair of sharp-scaled wyverns were duelling each other in the air, lashing out with vicious talons and flinging razor scales at one another. She quirked her head, having never seen them fight so roughly before. She supposed that they must be battling over territory. There were far more wyverns around than Small One remembered there being when they had first arrived. Perhaps that was a sign that the world was finally getting itself back on its feet.

She continued to watch the battling wyverns in the hope that one of them would die, or at least be wounded enough to kill easily. She hadn’t tasted them yet and they would make a nice change from sand-swimmers. They were still quite a bit bigger than she was. Furious One could probably have killed one without thinking about it. That thought brought back memories. She hadn’t seen Furious One since the night that Twisted One scared all the dragons away from the burning castle. In the back of her mind, she had often wondered what Twisted One had done, to make him flee and never return. There was the very real possibility that Twisted One had simply killed him, but some part of Small One refused to believe that the mighty Furious One would go down without a fight.

She blinked, a howl of pain from one of the duelling wyverns snapping her out of her thoughts. The victor was flying away, a little off-balance, but not injured enough to die. The other wyvern wasn’t so fortunate. It crash-landed unceremoniously, skidding along the sand and kicking up a cloud of fine grains. Small One stood up, wincing as the mid-morning sun tried its best to light her on fire. Approaching the wyvern, she studied its mangled body. It was covered in bleeding wounds and its wing membranes were torn. Many of its scales were missing, having been launched or simply scraped off by its opponent. Despite that, it was still alive, feebly twitching its wings and attempting to rattle its scales at Small One. It reminded her of the dying hardskin from so long ago.

Well, since the sharp-scaled wyvern was clearly suffering as it flopped about on a growing heap of sand clumped up by its own blood, Small One did it the service of tearing its throat out to kill it. She took a few experimental bites from its corpse before the sun could bake all of its moisture out. After swallowing a few chunks of meat, she came to the conclusion that the two-horned wyverns were still her favourite. Bold One trotted up to the dead wyvern and tried a bit for herself, completely unaffected by the heat. Clever One just lay in the shade panting. He clearly was not built for deserts, and Small One did feel a bit guilty for choosing this as their home. Although, at the time, there hadn’t been any better options.

Sitting in the shade to escape the sun, Small One lost herself in her thoughts once more. There were saplings growing in the ash fields beyond the desert. Was there more life returning to the ravaged world elsewhere? Perhaps it was time to move on. And, perhaps, they could seek out Furious One while they were at it. When Bold One had finished eating and returned to the other two, Small One chattered her idea to them, doing her best to make herself understood. They’d all gotten a lot better about understanding each other’s speech and body language, but they were not on the same level as a mystical one-horn would be. Thankfully, it only took a few tries to get her message across. Clever One practically took off the moment Small One suggested it, but Bold One was a little more thoughtful.

As far as Small One could tell, Bold One was quite content with life in the scorching desert. The heat suited her. She also wondered if it was worth the risk of losing the subservient death-prey colony. They may just find that the old forests and swamps were just as dead as before. Small One countered by pointing out the saplings, and the fact that Twisted One couldn’t possibly have burned the  _ entire  _ world. If the old places they frequented were still ruined, then they would simply fly until they found a new place to live. Small One was restless and wanted to explore and search for Furious One, with or without Bold One.

Bold One thought on it for a long time, her eye closed in contemplation. Finally, she opened it again and made a soft noise. Small One didn’t quite understand exactly what she said, but she got the drift of it: Bold One would follow where she went. And so it was that, later, when the sun was low enough that it wouldn’t sap all of Small One and Clever One’s energy, the trio set out, in the direction of the old lands. When they reached the fringes of the desert and the sand finally stopped, Clever One turned his head and squawked obscenities at the desert. Idly, Small One wondered if the tiny death-prey colony would still revere her if she returned, or if the reverence would fade and return to fear, or even aggression. That was something to test another day.

They stopped for the night on a rocky outcropping. Small One was pleased to note that some burgeoning vegetation was growing in the cracks between the rocks, covering up the telltale black patches. Though there wasn’t any prey she could see, the lack of choking ash was a welcome sign that she had made the right choice in leaving the desert. The next day, when the sun was high, the trio took off, ready to make their way to distant horizons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does Small One convince Bold One to leave the desert? (Intelligence = 12)  
> Small One rolls a 9 (required 8). Success.
> 
> Oof, we were one number away from losing Bold One this time. I had a brief flash of panic when I saw the 9 before I remembered that Small One’s Intelligence increased the other day.


	47. New Growth

Though the land had recovered somewhat, Small One was forced to admit that it really wasn’t back up to its old state yet as she glided over vast plains. Parts of the land were still blackened and barren, though a few hardy shrubs and grasses were trying to establish a foothold. But it didn’t have nearly enough new growth to sustain prey of suitable size for the trio of dragons. Small One could practically feel Bold One’s insufferable smirk boring into the back of her head. Still, she pressed on, scanning the horizon for anywhere which looked like it might be lively enough to hold prey.

Small One eyed the distant ridge of mountains where the old crater was nestled. If they went back now, would they find Fearless One? Or Furious One? She turned her head away from it. Furious One probably wasn’t back there. Instead, she lead her companions in the direction of where the tower once stood. Every now and then, they flew over the hollow remains of a shattered or scorched death-prey nest. Creeping vines had already begun to reclaim the ruins for themselves. Small One snorted derisively. Those pits deserved to rot.

It took a few days of hungry flying, but eventually they came to the familiar ravine. Dipping a little lower, Small One peered along the walls, searching for that old rocky hollow where she had been thrown into an uncaring world. Try as she might, she couldn’t pick it out amidst the crags. She could have flown down and searched, and Bold One and Clever One probably wouldn’t have questioned it, but she wasn’t so sure she wanted to go see it. Too many bitter memories of a cold night without Mother to keep her warm, with gravel sticking to her soft scales and her own keening wails the only sound in the air.

There was nothing left of the old forest she had lived in except for a graveyard of fallen trees. She remembered it being largely intact on the march to the tower. Twisted One or the death-prey must have come back to finish the job later. At the very least, it made spotting the various brooks and streams much easier. After pausing to drink and rest their wings, they carried on, across the flat, rolling grasslands, where Small One was pleased to see long grass growing in patches.

It took a while for them to come to the place where the tower once stood. Small One almost didn’t recognise it at first. It had been reduced to a husk of its former self, with the roof destroyed to the point where it was impossible to tell that it had ever been an arena. Sections of the walls had been ripped open, leaving the interior open to the air. The outer, metallic coating had been peeled or burned away in several places, exposing the stone beneath. And yet, despite that, it still stood tall and proud, without even a hint of instability. Somehow, Small One knew that the husk would be there for years to come, and that its ceaseless reek of despair would most likely scare off all but the most powerful dragons and wyverns. She certainly didn’t want to go anywhere near it.

Rather than stopping or changing course, Small One lead the way past the tower, further than she had ever gone before. This was unfamiliar territory for her, and she drank in the scenery eagerly. Squinting at the ground below, she guessed it probably used to be a grassland, or maybe a scrubland. Either way, it had been colonised by low-lying, thorny shrubs. Though the shapes of little furry things darted around in the shadows, there wasn’t anything big enough to be worth catching. Growling lightly, Small One beat her wings and caught an updraft for free gliding. After a while, the shrubs scattered away as the ground grew steeper. A large hill rose up ahead of Small One, its sides coated in loose, gravelly soil that rolled down as her wings stirred it.

Unfortunately, there didn’t seem to be any large creatures here, either. Small One snarled at the lifeless hillside. No large prey meant there was practically no chance of finding Furious One or a new home. Near the top of the hill, they passed over another small cluster of death-prey. Landing nearby, Small One decided to investigate them. These ones had built their flimsy nests using stones rather than dry wood and leaves. A shame they couldn't threaten to set it on fire. As the three dragons approached, the death-prey brandished crude weapons and shouted at her, with that familiar ‘ _ Alatreon _ ’ noise. Apparently that was a noise all death-prey made, not just the ones in the desert. Beneath the bravado, Small One could easily smell the poorly-concealed fear. All it took was a few snaps of her jaws and a mock pounce to send them scattering.

After nosing around the nests for a while, Small One sniffed out a structure which held dried meat, among other foodstuffs. Most of it tasted like nothing and was quickly spat out, but she dragged the meat out into the open, where she and her companions devoured it in short order. They ignored the crestfallen death-prey as they gorged themselves on the tough and tasteless, but still satisfying, stolen meat. When they were finished, they flew off into the evening sky, ready to continue the search for an unmarred home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this chapter seems… distracted or something, it’s because most of it was written in between GU hunts with a friend. We’re on a mission to make and max every weapon in the game. That’s also why it’s a little shorter than usual.


	48. Golden Mane

After a while, Small One gave up on scanning the scrublands below and focused on the horizon, sharp eyes searching for something which could make a home. A hazy, indistinct mountain range loomed in the distance. Squinting at it, Small One decided it was at least a few day’s flight away, even if they didn’t stop to sleep, drink, and hunt. Clever One chirped, and Small One drew her gaze away from the mountain and looked down. To her surprise, a small woodland had managed to avoid being razed during Twisted One’s rampage. As soon as she saw it, she dipped her wings and dove down towards the trees, skidding to a halt in the damp leaf litter.

She breathed in the cool, moist air, relishing in the smell of a living woodland. The desert didn’t smell like much more than sand and heat. It was a rather small forest, but sniffing at the air, Small One picked up an odd scent. It was ever so slightly familiar, a musky scent that somehow managed to smell intimidating. She took deeper and deeper breaths, racking her mind to try and remember where she had picked up that scent before. It was a long time ago, she knew that much, but it was hard to forget a smell, and she knew this one was familiar. Shaking her head and giving up, Small One padded along the forest floor, watching in the canopy for anything big enough to be worth catching.

Behind her, she could hear Clever One’s tongue lashing out and ensnaring countless bugs. His delighted chirps put a slight grin on Small One’s face. She supposed it  _ had  _ been a very long time since he last got to enjoy his favourite food. Bold One had her muzzle screwed up in concentration, taking deep breaths. Small One chittered to her, wondering if she had managed to identify the curious scent. Unfortunately, Bold One seemed just as unable to figure it out. Small One sighed, resolving to ignore it. She’d remember when she saw it. Hopefully it was edible. The dried meat they’d taken from the death-prey was nowhere near as filling as a fresh kill, and splitting it three ways hadn’t helped.

The woodland’s inhabitants were screeching and hooting and barking as the three dragons wove their ways through the trees. Suddenly, Bold One stopped, her blue mane bristling. Small One turned her head, chirping at her quizzically. Bold One gave a low growl, sweeping her gaze through the trees. Looking a little closer, Small One noticed that her mane and tail tuft were both standing slightly on end. Focusing on the air, Small One felt it. A very slight, almost imperceptible sense that the air was  _ charged _ . It reminded her of how the air felt whenever dragons summoned lightning. Clever One’s eyes were darting every which way, the very tip of his tongue poking out of his mouth.

A loud neigh echoed through the trees. Small One snapped her head towards the sound, just as a high pitched roar and the sound of splintering wood rang out. Small One took a quick glance at her companions before charging off through the trees, following the sounds. Mystical one-horns were knowledgeable and easy to talk to. It would be the one to ask about Furious One and the rest of the world. As she ran towards the neigh, the sound of pounding hooves grew louder, as did the crashing and enraged growls. Leaping over fallen logs and dodging through trees, Small One barely noticed herself accidentally losing Bold One and Clever One.

She paused for a moment to catch her breath, only to suddenly draw her head back to avoid having her eye stabbed out when the one-horn leapt from between the trees and ran past her. She roared after it, but it just kept up its panicked flight, becoming little more than a faintly-glowing spot in the trees. Snarling, Small One turned back to where it had fled from, just as an angry-looking ape with long horns and a golden mane punched its way through a tree and paused in front of her. The beast was much bigger and more muscular than she was, and as soon as she saw it, Small One remembered where she had picked up the curious scent before. It had been during the march on the stronghold, when they picked up a few of these horned apes. Come to think of it, she remembered the one-horns being quite displeased by their presence. Perhaps this was why.

The ape looked ready to resume chasing the one-horn, but Small One firmly planted herself in front of it, wings spread and head held high to try and look as big and intimidating as possible despite her smaller size. The ape wasn’t buying it. It narrowed its eyes and reared up, a powerful roar shaking the trees. Small One fought to keep herself from trembling. She was not going to let this lesser beast eat her source of information, no matter how big it was. The contest of wills continued for another moment, before the ape suddenly growled and lifted an arm. Small One dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding a punch that would have no doubt broken her skull.

Screeching her own roar, Small One lashed out with her jaws, catching the ape on the upper arm. Despite its bulging muscles and fierce temper, the beast’s soft fur and thin hide were absolutely no use against Small One’s fangs, and its warm, metallic blood filled her mouth. She quickly let go and beat her wings to get clear as the ape swung its other arm at her, hand balled up in a fist. Unfortunately, that backed her up against a tree and left her little room to move. The ape suddenly hopped back, rearing up with a roar before slamming down hard, a bright yellow beam of pure energy erupting from its mouth. Dodging at the last second, Small One wasn’t quite able to stop the tip of her tail from being caught in the blast. She yelped, tucking her tail closer to herself. The tree where she had been standing had been blasted almost in two, teetering dangerously.

Small One charged forward with horns lowered, intending to rake the ape across the face with the sharp points, but her enemy nimbly hopped back, seeming unfazed by the blood leaking from its shoulder. It grabbed a nearby log and hefted up the massive thing like it was nothing, tossing it straight at Small One. A quick beat of her wings helped her clear it, but also caused her to smack her back on a low-hanging branch. The beast took advantage of the momentary weakness, leaping up and punching her in the belly. The air was knocked clear from Small One’s lungs, sending her plummeting to the ground.

She just barely managed to stand up and get out of the way before the ape slammed both of its fists down where she used to be, shaking the ground. For a moment, its fists seemed to be stuck in the damp soil, so Small One ignored the pain in her gut and leapt for the beast’s face, slashing at the soft skin with her razor sharp talons. The ape screamed, raising its hands to its face to try and block Small One’s swipes. Small One responded by using all the strength in her arms to pull its hands apart ever so slightly, then headbutted it, her left horn digging into its face and her right horn clashing noisily against the beast’s own horn. The ape yelped, roughly shoving Small One away with its palms and pushing the air from her lungs once more.

Small One stood, glaring warily at the ape as it stood there with blood streaming down its face. She sucked in a few breaths and straightened herself out, wings splayed out. It was times like these that she  _ really  _ wished her horns worked. She wa sure that fire or ice would have been enough to frighten off even the strong, muscular beast. The ape looked around, the hair of its golden mane shivering in rage. It seemed to realise that its prey was long gone. It glared at Small One and snarled, lifting an arm and coiling its skinny legs to jump. Small One tensed to be ready to dodge, but a glob of poison spit splattered onto the ape’s face, eliciting a shriek. Small One swung her head around just as Clever One materialised, another poison ball already building in his mouth. Clawing at its eyes, the ape turned around to stalk back into the woods where it had come from, evidently deciding that it wasn’t worth it.

Small One breathed a sigh of relief, then turned to Clever One and chattered a thanks. He stuck his tongue out and jerked his head in the direction the fleeing one-horn had went. After a few attempts, he managed to explain to Small One that he and  Bold One had found the one-horn, and Bold One was currently guarding it. As they walked, Small One’s tail and belly started to ache rather fiercely as the adrenaline wore off. She supposed she should count herself lucky that she hadn’t gotten hit by anything more serious than the edge of an energy blast and a weaker punch. There was no doubt in her mind that the horned ape could have snapped her spine in two if she’d let it.

After a while of walking, Small One and Clever One came to the small clearing where Bold One currently sat next to a pacing one-horn. It was a male, as far as Small One could tell, with a lustrous mane and an ethereal glow. He whinnied a thanks to Small One as soon as he saw her, clearly grateful that she had stood up to his predator for him. Small One decided to get right to the point. Growling and chirping, she asked the one-horn if he knew which parts of the world were still intact. The picture painted by the one-horn was a rather grim one. He seemed to believe that nowhere was truly unscathed, not even the deepest parts of the ocean or the most isolated of mountain peaks. The death-prey had sunk their claws deep into the world and Twisted One had not been gentle in ripping them out.

Mulling that rather grim image over, Small One changed approach, next asking the one-horn which parts of the world were recovering the best. His response wasn’t what Small One had been hoping for. He spun tales of a verdant land beyond the sea, where the death-prey’s presence hadn’t been so strongly rooted, and Twisted One hadn’t had to try very hard to get rid of them. Small One huffed. That was all well and good, but she didn’t think she or the other two had the stamina to fly across the sea. She similarly shot down the one-horn’s suggestions of the frozen north, where precious few death-prey had bothered to set up nests. Small One didn’t even have to look at Bold One and Clever One to know they were glaring at the one-horn for even suggesting it.

The one-horn’s final suggestion was for the trio to choose a volcanic area and stay there. Even Twisted One didn’t have the power to damage a volcano so badly that it no longer served its function, and the death-prey hadn’t worked too hard to establish themselves near any for fear of eruptions. Though Bold One immediately perked up at the idea, and Small One wasn’t too adverse to it so long as the sun wouldn’t be beating down on her, she could practically  _ feel  _ Clever One’s heart sinking. Unfortunately, that was the last real suggestion the one-horn had to offer. No amount of pressing him could get him to offer up more than a few apologies and explanations that the world hadn’t healed yet and needed more time.

Small One took a deep breath. She had one last question to ask the one-horn before it was time to move on. Speaking in low tones, she asked him if he had seen or heard anything of an adult male glitterscale with a big messy scar on his chest. The one-horn closed his eyes in thought for a few moments, before finally admitting that he hadn’t seen  _ any  _ glitterscales since the war ended, aside from Small One herself. That was rather disappointing, but Small One tried not to let it show. As she turned to leave, the one-horn suddenly nickered, catching her attention again. His last bit of advice before he trotted back into the trees was to search in places where glitterscales liked to live. Small One was about to ask him where glitterscales usually lived, but stopped short. She was a glitterscale, shouldn’t she know that? She squeezed a clump of leaf litter in her talon as she suddenly realised that there was quite a lot she didn’t know about her own kind. She snorted bitterly. Just another thing that neither absent Mother, hollow Broken One, nor warlord Furious One had bothered to teach her.

By the time she was done feeling sorry for herself, the one-horn was long gone, leaving her without even the option of asking him. Bold One and Clever One were already making their way through the trees, eyes open for anything edible. Small One followed behind them, idly musing on all the other things she didn’t know or understand about her own place in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does Small One drive off the Rajang? (Strength = 9)  
> Small One rolls an 18 (required 11). Success.
> 
> In order to make up for Distracted Shiny’s poor multitasking abilities yesterday, have a double length chapter, which includes both what was intended to be the second half of yesterday’s chapter and what was intended to be today’s chapter. I wasn’t playing GU while writing this one so it’s probably not as badly-written and disconnected as last night’s was. Hopefully, anyway.


	49. Decision Making

Clever One had a satisfied look on his face as the trio left the forest the next day. Small One imagined it had something to do with the fact that he’d had his first proper meal in years. As for Small One and Bold One, they were considerably less pleased. They had managed to catch a small, green-furred thing with hooves, which didn’t amount to much when split between the two of them. Small One was still thinking about the one-horn’s advice even as she flew aimlessly in a random direction. Rocky, scrubby land spread out below her, and she spotted a small pack of green pack hunters running along on the ground. They were too small and lean to bother with, but seeing them was a good enough sign that life was at least pretending to return to normal in this place.

The one-horn had offered three distinct options of where to go next. He’d said there was an almost pristine realm across the sea, assuming they could fly that far without falling into the water and drowning. Plus, they would have to know where exactly they needed to leave from in order to reach this supposed verdant land. Small One wrote that one off in her mind. She didn’t fancy her chances of figuring out where to go, and she didn’t have enough wing strength to have the luxury of guessing. The next choice the one-horn had offered was to go to the frozen north, where it was so cold that even the death-prey hadn’t bothered to set up nests there. Small One hadn’t really had much experience with cold before, but she remembered from so very long ago, when she was only a few days old and she met Cold One. The chill he had exuded pierced her scales and went all the way down to the bone. Just thinking about it sent a tremble down her spine. If the frozen north was anything like that, she didn’t want anything to do with it. And she knew that Bold One and Clever One didn’t either.

That just left finding a volcano as a final option. Volcanoes were unpredictable, apparently. She’d never seen one, but Furious One had told her about them before. He said they were so powerful that no living thing could possibly stand against them. They were also quite hot, apparently. She knew Bold One would be all for it, and so long as there was no blazing sun to sear at her scales, she felt she would probably be alright too. But Clever One wasn’t likely to be on board with it. He had just barely managed life in the desert. He hated fire, and his smooth, reflective skin burned easily. Still, she had to try to convince him.

She stalled in the air and rounded on Bold One and Clever One, the other two drawing up to hover in front of her. With slow, clear chitters, Small One declared her intention to seek out a volcano and make it her home. Just as she expected, Bold One instantly crooned an agreement, but Clever One squawked and whipped his tongue at the air. Wincing, Small One tried to explain to Clever One why the other two choices of where to go wouldn’t work, but he wasn’t having any of it. He waved his tongue about and hissed about how the one-horn didn’t know everything, and how he didn’t think he could take any more heat. Small One glared at him, trying her absolute best to impose her will on him, but he held firm, meeting her gaze. Bold One seemed a little too lost in her own excitement to be of any help, excitedly meowing about what tiny fragments she remembered of her own neonatehood near a distant magma flow.

No amount of wheedling or explanations could get Clever One to budge. In the end, they reached an impasse. Small One and Bold One refused to go anywhere but the volcano, while Clever One refused to go anywhere near a volcano. Small One was about to try and bargain with him, when Bold One said something that caught her attention. Cheerfully oblivious to the battle of wills happening right next to her, she rather unhelpfully declared that she remembered seeing all kinds of fire monsters during the brief time she spent in her original home before the death-prey stole her away. After all, all fire monsters had their ancestral homes in places where magma flowed. Small One’s mind raced. It was a bit of a stretch, but she had seen Furious One breathing fire. If all fire monsters made their homes in volcanoes, then maybe that was where she should be looking to find an adult of her kind.

Now there was no other choice. They were going to the volcano, with or without Clever One. Snarling, Small One told him as much. He pointed both of his eyes straight at her for a moment, before chirping and turning around. Small One felt her heart sink. There really was no way to convince him, and he’d clearly decided they were going without him. She gave one last feeble croon at him, but he simply looked back at her and chirped her a fond farewell, hoping to see her again some time in the future. With that last remark, he flapped away, back towards the forest where they met the one-horn. Small One hung in the air for a while, and Bold One stopped her chattering to watch Clever One’s silhouette grow smaller and harder to make out, until Small One couldn’t see him anymore.

She kept hovering in place for another long while, somehow hoping that he would turn around and come back to say he had decided to come with them after all. But he never did. Despondently, Small One huffed and wheeled in the air, pointing herself towards the hazy mountain range. They’d made their decisions and now they had to live with them. Bold One followed her at a sober pace, neither exchanging the usual friendly nips or light aerial play. They had made decent progress towards the mountains by the time the sun began to set, so Small One landed on an earthy riverbank, lapping at the clean water and resting her wings.

It was only when Small One was curling up next to and shoving her snout into Bold One’s fluffy mane to sleep that she realised a crucial part of the plan that she hadn’t put enough thought into. Namely, where was the nearest volcano? Resolving to ask Bold One if she remembered, she let herself drift away to sleep, thoughts consumed by visions of what might have been, if she’d only managed to bring Clever One around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where does Small One decide to go? (1 = across the sea, 2 = tundra, 3 = volcano)  
> Small One rolls a 3. Volcano.
> 
> Does Small One convince Clever One to come along? (Intelligence = 12)  
> Clever One’s weakness to heat affects Small One’s roll (-7)  
> Small One rolls a 13 - 7 = 6 (required 8). Failure.
> 
> Clever One leaves the party.
> 
> Ahh awful rolls everywhere. Alas, poor Clever One, the dice dice-ided (heh) that we don’t get to keep him. Sorry for the shortness again, I have a really bad headache and it made looking at the screen to write kind of difficult.


	50. Lava Land

When Small One woke up the next morning, it took a few tries to jab Bold One awake with her snout. Bold One purred and stretched her legs out, claws extending. She looked around sleepily for a moment and blinked. Small One spotted the exact moment when she remembered that Clever One wasn’t with them anymore, and her face fell. Small One licked behind Bold One’s ears and crooned softly. The pair sat like that for a while, musing on their absent friend, before Small One decided it was time to get a move on. She stood up and stretched her wings, soaking up the morning sunlight. Bold One quickly stood up too, her eye lingering on the spot where Clever One would have been.

Small One took a deep drink from the river, then looked around, scanning the plains for any sign of where to go next. That reminded her, she needed to see if Bold One knew where the place she had hatched was. Chittering to Bold One, the initial answer wasn’t very encouraging. The firemane sat back onto her haunches, humming to herself with her eye closed in concentration. After a long pause, she finally, rather haltingly, suggested that she would probably know it when she saw it, and that it had been very far away from the tower. Small One sighed. That wasn’t very helpful. Still, it was their only real idea of where to go, so she gestured for her companion to lead the way, and they took off.

Bold One clearly wasn’t too sure of where she was going. She would fly steadily in one direction, then suddenly pause for a moment and look around, before veering off in another random direction. Small One’s patience was growing thin by the time they landed for the night and seemed not to have gotten anywhere. Bold One’s apologetic meows took the edge off of Small One’s ire, but she was starting to regret this decision just a bit. At this point, though, it was too late to change her mind. Bold One’s confused attempts at finding her former home had left them so turned around that she doubted she could find Clever One again even if she tried. So they were just going to have to live with their choices.

By the third day of confused wandering, Small One was at least pleased to find that they weren’t flying in circles above the plains anymore. They were well on their way to the hazy mountains in the distance, though it was doubtful if Bold One had actually remembered where to go, or if she was just making hopeful guesses. Small One had taken to admiring the land below in search of  _ anything  _ which might make a meal, regardless of how small or insignificant it may be. The pangs of hunger never quite faded, even when she dove down on unsuspecting pack hunters or snatched feathered things from the air. This part of the world had been ravaged too, and large wyverns seemed not to have deemed it worth returning to yet. No dragons, either. At the very least, the vegetation was returning and smaller creatures were making use of it.

By the end of a week’s wandering, Small One had come to the conclusion that Bold One truly had no idea where she was going. At the very least, they’d flown over a verdant grassland where a small herd of slow-moving, unarmoured prey with club tails were peacefully grazing. The slow, timid grazers didn’t put up any kind of a fight, and the herd’s alpha male made the first proper meal Small One and Bold One had eaten since leaving the desert. Now that she wasn’t constantly being plagued by gnawing hunger, Small One could focus a little better on examining their surroundings to see if she could spot something that might possibly be a volcano.

It was another few days before Bold One finally gave a proud cry and took off at speed towards a peculiar looking mountain, a cone of black rock where smoke rose up into the air. The ominous red glow coming from the mountain’s peak set Small One on edge, and thin orange rivulets trickled down the sides and pooled at the base. Was that a volcano? Bold One seemed to think so. Following her friend, Small One forced her tired wings to carry her at full speed just to catch up with Bold One. The sight of home seemed to have gotten Bold One fired up, if the way she was screeching was anything to go by.

When they finally reached the volcano, Small One found herself in awe of how unapproachable it seemed. The rock was blackened and the air was choked with ash and sulcus, and the intense heat washed over Small One even as she hovered outside. When she felt that burning air, she knew instantly that even if he had come with them, Clever One wouldn’t have survived here. The entire surrounding area was blanketed with ash and smothered beneath encrusted lava flows, but somehow there was still vegetation thriving near the base of the volcano. When she stared at the glowing lava, Small One could swear she saw large shapes moving through it as easily as if it was water. In the distance, a wyvern roared. In spite of all the fire and brimstone, this was the liveliest place Small One had seen in years. The crumbled remains of what used to be a stone death-prey nest lay forlornly a short distance away. By the looks of things, it had been smashed to pieces long ago, and now the local plants had claimed it, along with a group of red pack hunters with black spots. 

Bold One ignored all of this and eagerly dove straight into a cave entrance near the volcano’s base, and Small One followed. As soon as she was inside, Small One gasped at the heat. It was an intense, dry heat that seemed to sap all the moisture from her mouth as soon as she took a breath. The desert seemed cold by comparison. And yet, she felt rather comfortable inside of the impossibly hot volcano. For one thing, there was no sun to work its way into her black scales and teach her a new meaning of the word ‘hot’. There was also no annoying sand to get stuck in her talons or blow into her eyes. The burning ground and flowing magma would take some getting used to, but she felt confident she could manage it.

The volcano’s interior was an impossible maze of twisting lava tunnels and open caves, with pools of magma collecting in seemingly random places. The caves were dimly lit, with only the magma to illuminate the way. Despite the fact that there was no soil to be found within the volcano, Small One spotted a few tiny plants stubbornly clinging to life. She clambered over a pile of pale grey rocks to go take a closer look at a shrivelled looking weed growing in a corner near a lava pool. Calling it a weed was a bit generous. It was thin and withered-looking, with brown leaves that looked curled and wrinkled. A rumbling noise, like falling stones, caught Small One’s attention, causing her to turn her head and look.

Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary, aside from the fact that Bold One was rolling around in a patch of stones that were so hot they were glowing. Still, something about the scene felt  _ off  _ to Small One. She knew she had heard a sound, but the surrounding area was completely flat and featureless, with absolutely nothing to break up the terrain save a few little clusters of glowing pebbles. Then it hit her. What had happened to the pile of rocks she climbed over? She hadn’t been paying too much attention to them, but she had noticed that they were oddly pale compared to the rest of the reddish-black stone in the cave. She crooned at Bold One, hoping her friend knew something about the vanishing rocks, but Bold One just looked at her blankly and went back to playing in the hot stones.

Sniffing the spot where she thought the rocks had been, Small One managed to detect the faintest hint of a scent, but it was so slight she wasn’t even sure it was a real smell. She blinked a few times and glanced around. Had she just imagined the pile of rocks? But she distinctly remembered climbing over them to go look at the plant. She shook her head to stop it from spinning. The vanishing rocks had her curious now, curious to see what other secrets the volcano held. She strode over to the entrance to a hardened lava tunnel, admiring the intricate patterns in the rock. Just before she stepped into the tunnel, she chirped at Bold One. Bold One quickly flipped herself upright and stepped towards Small One, but she froze and flicked her ears towards the nearby magma pool.

Small One focused her gaze on the pool as well. She hadn’t heard whatever Bold One had, but she trusted her friend not to make a fuss over nothing. The surface of the lava seemed to be moving in odd patterns, and Small One’s heart skipped a beat when a monster’s fin just barely breached the surface. She set herself in an aggressive stance, ready for anything as a tail emerged from the lava and twist led for a moment before going back down. Small One’s breath held in her throat. Whatever that thing was, it was  _ big _ , and it was getting closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is Bold One able to find the volcano? (Intelligence = 9)  
> Bold One rolls a 12 (required 11). Success.
> 
> Today’s the 50th chapter! I didn’t think I’d get this far with this story, to be honest, since I’m notorious for not finishing what I start. But I’m proud of myself for sticking to this story, and I’ve only missed one day so far! This story is the longest one I’ve written, now. It passed that benchmark a while ago, though, back when we hit the 30k mark. At this point, we’re about halfway through the story, I’d wager. Remember way back at the very beginning when I said I had about three milestones I wanted to hit before the ending? We’ve already passed one, and the second will be coming up fairly soon.
> 
> Despite the dips in quality that happen when I’m not in the mood or not feeling my best, I enjoy writing this story and seeing what all of you have to say each day. I don’t think I’d have been able to keep it up without all of you readers, so thank you. I read every comment and take what you all say into consideration, so never hesitate to tell me if you think something needs remedying or if you have a question.


	51. Unstable Force

Small One hoped against hope that whatever was swimming in the molten rock would simply leave on its own. Perhaps it was just curious about these new things in its territory, and would swim away once its interest was satisfied. Its sharp fin occasionally poked out from the surface as it meandered its way closer, and its huge, paddle-like tail twisted and spiralled as the great beast swam. Small One wanted to turn and run, to flee deeper into the caves and away from the giant swimming thing, but she was frozen in place—by her pride as much as her fear. After a few tense moments, the lava stopped rippling, and the fin no longer cut through the surface. Small One held her breath. Perhaps the thing had left of its own accord?

No such luck. The ground shook, and before Small One had a chance to react, something  _ big  _ lunged from the ground beneath her feet, stabbing her in the belly with a hard, blunt beak and launching her into the air. Bold One roared, but her roar was drowned out by the sound of something bigger screeching for all it was worth. Roughly impacting the ground where she had been thrown, dazed and unable to breathe, Small One could barely understand what was going on. All she knew was that something gigantic had slammed into her and it  _ hurt _ . Dully, she looked at Bold One. Though the scene she saw was sideways, it filled her with dread.

Bold One was squaring up to a huge, serpentine monster, easily twice her length (and Small One thought it was longer even than an adult firemane would be), with red scales and a nasty-looking beak. It was glowing red-hot all over its body, from its paddle tail, all along its serrated fin and right up to its head. Short, stubby legs gave it an awkward gait that dragged its armoured belly along the ground. After tossing a disdainful glance to the prone Small One, it loped its way towards Bold One, its body swaying in a fluid motion as it walked. Bold One hissed and spread out her wings, gnashing her teeth threateningly.

In response, the monster suddenly raised its head and clacked its beak rapidly, sparks flying with each impact. Bold One’s eye widened, as if some tiny part of her knew what to expect, and she dived to one side right as a beam of pure heat lanced from the beak-clacker’s beak. In an instant, the rock where she had been standing was reduced to a pile of melted slag. She rushed over and headbutted Small One to try and get her up, eliciting a groan even as Small One hauled herself to uneasy feet. There was a terrible ache in her gut, and she felt an intense desire to eject the contents of her stomach all over the ground. Bold One snapped at her, shoving her to try and get her to move, just as the ground rumbled and the beak-clacker spiralled its way back beneath the ground with a cascade of lava.

Small One had barely taken a step when the beak-clacker’s head emerged from the ground a short way behind them, as easily as if it was in water. It ducked its head back into the rock and sped towards them, dorsal fin slicing through the rock with a spray of sparks and a horrible grinding sound. Bold One pushed Small One away roughly, only to yelp as the sharp fin bit into her left hind leg and left a deep, bleeding gash. The beak-clacker erupted from the ground, twisting elegantly in the air to land perfectly on its feet, clicking its beak. Snarling, Bold One fanned out her wings and scattered wing dust in front of her. With a swift motion, she gnashed her teeth together, the spark catching the dust in an explosion that rocked the cavern and left blue flames burning in its wake.

Unfortunately, the beak-clacker seemed not to be fazed by the flames, tucking its legs close to its body and slithering forward towards Small One with surprising speed for something so deceptively bulky. Still dazed from the first attack, Small One couldn’t get out of the way in time. She screeched and the massive serpent grabbed the back of the head with its beak. Her breath was stolen from her as the beast coiled its massive body around her, digging its burning claws into her scales as best it could. Small One flailed, but suddenly all was pain as the monster tightened its grip on her, so tight she couldn’t draw a breath and her vision was starting to fill with sparks. Distantly, as though she was underwater, she could hear Bold One shrieking, vaguely saw her slashing her claws at the beak-clacker’s molten hide.

Her limbs were going numb and there was an awful, stabbing pain in her chest, so terrible that she wasn’t sure she could have breathed even if her lungs weren’t being crushed. With each increasingly weak attempt to break free, the beak-clacker only coiled itself tighter around her. Somewhere on the edge of her rapidly fading consciousness, she felt herself doing…  _ something _ . Pushing, straining against something in her mind, and now her head felt like it was splitting open but it was a small pain compared to the agonising numbness covering the rest of her. She couldn’t see anymore, couldn’t feel anything except the blinding  _ pain _ . With one last surge of effort, and what would have been a roar if she’d still had breath, she  _ pushed _ .

The dam broke.

Burning, stabbing, agonising, crippling pain erupted in her mind and head alike, so intense that it made the beak-clacker’s grip feel like a soft nuzzle by comparison. Suddenly, her head was cold, colder than anything she had ever felt in her life, and that coldness was in her mouth and she wanted it  _ out  _ of her mouth. Foggy, hazy, she heard the cries of the beak-clacker, and she felt its grip slacken. There was no time to dwell on that. Her darkened vision was lightening, ever so slightly, though there was now a whitish haze occupying her field of view. The coldness was fading, but now it was being replaced by the strongest jolt she’d ever felt in her life, like the air near a one-horn but a thousand times worse, and she wanted it to get  _ away  _ from her head no matter what, before it killed her or made her hurt even more than she already was.

The beak-clacker’s shrieks were clearer now, and Small One sucked in a painful breath as the coils loosened even more. The white sparkles around her eyes were still there, but the blurry cavern was coming into higher focus now. Bold One was standing near by, claw held in mid air and eye wide with something which might have been horror, barely noticing the beak-clacker as it slithered away. Small One ignored all of this, pouring all of her energy into getting rid of the shock before it killed her. The shock subsided, and the sparkles faded, but in its place came heat, heat that made the desert sun seem as cold as ice, and it was in her chest and her chest was on fire and she just had to breathe to get it away from her before it was too late.

Bold One was backing away now, eye flicking between Small One and the globs of pure flame that were flying wildly across the cavern floor in erratic bursts. Small One watched the flames too, and wondered where they were coming from, but that wasn’t as important as getting rid of the burning because nothing could ever hurt as much as her head did right now and so that was the most important thing. The heat finally began to cool, and Small One almost took a moment to look around and ask what had happened, but then the  _ screaming  _ started. A horrible scream that threatened to tear her mind apart if she listened to it but she couldn’t not listen because it was in her head and her throat was raw (was she screaming too?)  and she wanted the scream to  _ stop _ , it was the most important thing and nothing had ever been or ever would be as important as stopping the  _ scream _ .

She was vaguely aware of the black energy coursing through her claws even as she slashed wildly at the air around her, because if she destroyed that which was  screaming then the noise would stop and then maybe the pain would go away. At long last the scream began to trail off, and she was happier then than she had ever been in her life, until the pain in her head came back and the cold and sparkles returned, and then she was on the ground shrieking until the cold finally faded, but then the jolt and the burning and the  _ scream _ came back and she wanted it all to  _ stop _ . Cold, jolt, heat, scream, cold, jolt, heat, scream, cold jolt heat scream  _ cold jolt heat scream  _ **_cold jolt heat scream_ **

Suddenly, everything stopped. The screaming stopped, the sparkles faded, and Small One’s raw throat ceased shrieking and settled for whimpering. A pink tongue was gently running itself along Small One’s horns, and she was vaguely aware that it belonged to Bold One, whose leg was bleeding and whose face bore telltale marks of ice and fire and thunder, but whose eye was kind and whose grooming was soft and tender. Whimpering, Small One lost herself to the blissful peace of silence, wishing she could simply lay there forever and never have to move again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does Small One dodge the beak-clacker’s attack? (Finesse = 9)  
> Small One rolls a 2 (required 11). Failure.
> 
> Does Bold One scare the beak-clacker away? (Element = 7)  
> Bold One rolls a 6 (required 13). Failure.
> 
> Does Small One break free from the beak-clacker’s grip? (Strength = 9)  
> Small One rolls a 5 (required 11). Failure.
> 
> Does Bold One snap Small One out of it? (Luck = 10)  
> Bold One rolls a 13 (required 10). Success.
> 
> Man, the dice wanted to kill us this chapter. Awful rolls make for awful elemental awakenings.


	52. Licking Wounds

It was a long time before Small One gained awareness of where she was and what was happening. The beak-clacker was long gone, the magma’s surface unbroken by any fins. Bold One was gently grooming her, kneading her scales softly with her claws and purring soothingly in her ear. Gradually, the pain from the fight began to make itself known to her. All around her midsection, she felt deep aches beginning to settle in where the beak-clacker had wrapped itself around her. Each breath she took sent a stabbing pain through her left side, and her legs complained with each attempt she made to move them. Her shoulders were marred by deep puncture wounds from where the beak-clacker had gripped her with its claws, but the searing heat from its talons had cauterised the wounds and left them rather clean. Her chest twinged every now and then, as if her heart hadn’t quite remembered how to beat yet.

By far the worst offender, though, was her head. Her head felt like it was about to shatter into a million pieces, with her horns feeling as though Fearless One was grinding a massive foot on them. But despite all that, it was nowhere near as bad as the agony she’d felt however long ago. Somewhere through the pain, she knew something was different. It was as though she’d spent her entire life living with a wall within her mind that she couldn’t get past. Now the wall was gone, and she could feel an angry, violent wellspring of power deep within her, lashing out at her whenever she thought about it, as if it was daring her to try and draw it out. She shivered, and promptly stopped thinking about it.

Her throat was sore and her voice was hoarse, and it took a few tries to call out to Bold One. As soon as Bold One heard her, she nuzzled Small One softly, and Small One couldn’t help but notice the jagged electrical burns on her friend’s muzzle, and the tiny pinpricks of blood from where ice crystals had dug into her skin. Croaking an apology, Small One tried to get her legs underneath herself to stand, but found that her left side did not appreciate that, nor did her legs. She flopped back down, wincing as the impact sent another shot of pain lancing through her left side. Bold One hummed, then gently pushed at Small One, urging her to get up. In deceptively soft tones, she informed Small One that they needed to go someplace safer than the open cavern, like a lava flume or other small tunnel.

With Bold One’s help, Small One managed to stagger to her feet, hissing beneath her breath all the while as her body complained about all the abuse it had suffered. Slowly, with her blue friend supporting her, she limped into the lava tunnel she had been heading for before the whole mess with the beak-clacker. Every breath irritated her left side, and every step sent painful jolts shooting up her legs. Idly, she wondered if something was broken. The tunnel was dark and narrow, but considerably less hot than the cavern. It was still too hot for Clever One, though. Despondently, she wondered if that whole battle would have gone differently if Clever One were with them.

In the darkness of the tunnel, they made slow progress. Small One noticed that Bold One seemed to be carrying herself oddly, favouring her right hind leg. There was a slight smell of blood in the air, and Small One guiltily thought about how the only reason Bold One’s leg had been sliced was because she was too slow to avoid the beak-clacker. In the depths of her very being, the maelstrom of power roiled again, sending a shiver down her spine. She did not want to touch it ever again, if it was going to bring back the cold and the shock and the heat and the screaming. Furious One had wielded the forces of nature with ease, but Small One was too small and fragile to command them. She knew that now.

After a long while limping through the tunnel, pausing whenever a monster’s roar echoed from the walls, they came into a different cavern. Pillars of hardened lava supported a distant ceiling, and there were no magma pools here. A pile of pale grey rocks, like the one that Small One could swear had vanished before her very eyes, littered the middle of the cavern. She groaned and sat heavily on the ground, gritting her teeth against the inevitable pain. Bold One chattered at her to get up, but Small One simply didn’t have the energy left in her to keep going. Bold One puffed air through her nose, then ushered Small One into a corner where she could sit down and rest.

They sat for a long time, Bold One licking the wound on her leg to try and stem the flow of blood. When she was satisfied with it, she took to staring intently at the cavern, scanning for anything which might be edible. Sadly, nothing wandered past. Small One was tempted to let herself drift off to sleep, but every time she tried, Bold One would give her a sharp nip on the end of the snout. After a while of staring at the empty cavern, something odd happened. The pile of rocks began to move. At first she thought she was imagining it, but then suddenly the pile of rocks erupted from the ground and shook itself off, sending chunks of black stone bouncing along the ground. Small One chirped softly. She knew she wasn’t seeing things.

What she had thought was a simple pile of rocks turned out to be a small, stocky wyvern, the ‘rocks’ making up the armoured shell on its back. It had a short, stubby tail and a blunt snout, which it was currently using to sniff about on the ground. It turned its gaze towards the two dragons, and Small One’s heart skipped a beat. Thankfully, its eyes held no malice, just curiosity. Small One recognised it as a variation of Fearless One’s usual gaze. It seemed to believe it had little to fear from the dragons as it went about its business, grabbing up chunks of rock in its mouth and crushing them up. The little grey wyvern and the two injured dragons sat in peaceful coexistence, Small One wishing that she could obtain food as easily as the wyvern could.

In the back of her mind, that awful wellspring surged, and for a brief moment Small One panicked as a few stray sparkles gathered near her eyes and she felt her horns beginning to chill. Bold One, seeming to sense her friend’s sudden discomfort, quickly nuzzled her and began to groom her. The rocky wyvern seemed to sense something was wrong too, lifting its head to eye Small One suspiciously. In her mind, Small One was desperately fighting to drive the cold back into whatever pit it had come from, practically begging herself not to lose it again, because she never wanted to experience that ever again.

Bold One purred encouragement into her ear, telling her to calm down, to breathe, even if it hurt. Small One drew in deep, shaky breaths that sent agony through the ribs that she was almost certain were broken. Slowly, painfully, the cold receded and the sparkles faded. The grey rock wyvern had dug away at some point, perhaps sensing the delicate situation it was in. Small One shivered and a soft cry escaped from between her jaws. She’d beaten the maelstrom back this time, but what about every other time? How did the adult glitterscales live with this awful sense that everything could fall apart at any given moment? Bitterly, she added that to the growing list of things she’d missed out on learning.

Bold One nudged her, suggesting that they carry on searching for a safe place to nest, that walking might keep her from losing it. Despite the pain in her everything, Small One complied, hauling herself to her feet. After looking around for a moment, Bold One lead Small One to another lava flume, this one sloping upwards. Small One groaned at the steepness of the climb, but she limped alongside her friend, silently willing her horns not to bother her. The long walk through the twisting tunnels was mercifully without incident, though unlike the last tunnel, this one branched off into multiple paths, some formed by lava and others simply a natural part of the mountain’s cave system. Small One was too exhausted to really think about where they were going, choosing instead to trust in Bold One’s decision making.

When at last they came to the end of the tunnel, Small One was surprised to see actual light filtering in through a haze of ash. Puffing some of the grey dust from her nose, Small One realised that Bold One had managed to lead them to a small perch, near the top of the volcano. The grey rock was flat and featureless, save a few blue crystals sticking out of the wall, but it looked unoccupied aside from some annoying poison-spitters, who flew away the instant Bold One challenged them. Small One didn’t even wait for Bold One to scour the area properly, simply picking a small hollow between two crystals and letting herself drop off to sleep almost instantly, hoping against everything that sleep would take the pressure of the newly-discovered maelstrom away for just a little while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How severe are Small One’s injuries? (/10)  
> Small One rolls a 7.
> 
> Does Small One get herself under control? (Luck = 10)  
> Small One rolls a 13 (required 10). Success.
> 
> Small One’s stats have increased:  
> Element— 0 > 3
> 
> After yesterday’s disaster area, we now seem to be playing a game of bad roll, good roll. When it rains, it pours, I guess.
> 
> As a side note, an idea for another story has come to me and it’s really hard to ignore the ‘Ooh shiny’ of trying to write it now despite it being not fully developed at all. Current plan is to finish this story, then finish the Mystery Dungeon fic, then work on this new idea if it still appeals to me.


	53. Language Barriers

Visions of ice and fire and thunder filled Small One’s dreams and left her feeling restless, until she was awoken rather roughly by Bold One hissing a warning into her ear. She groaned, opening her eyes to see that the sun had not yet risen. She squinted into the darkness, wondering what had gotten Bold One so riled up, when she noticed a familiar pile of pale grey boulders lying nearby. The little grey rock wyvern had joined them on the small rocky perch, and was sitting with its belly on the ground and wings folded, looking at them curiously. Small One tensed herself, waiting for it to attack, but it simply stared. Though it was dark, Small One could see that there was no aggression in its stance, or even fear. It was simply curious, and from the way it was sitting in a pile of charred sticks, Small One realised that this must be its nest and that she and Bold One were intruding.

Small One stood up, wincing a little but noting that resting had improved her legs just a bit. The rock wyvern watched her, tilting its head. Small One had to commend it for its complete lack of fear. It wasn’t much bigger than she was, and it didn’t look built for fighting, but it seemed to have complete faith in its rocky hide to protect it. Bold One examined Small One critically for a moment, then resumed staring down the wyvern. Despite the intensity of Bold One’s gaze, the wyvern was unfazed. Small One cocked her head. The little wyvern didn’t seem to be too upset by their intrusion in its territory. They’d seen it a few times now, all around the volcano. Perhaps it knew its way around and what creatures could be found where.

Taking a cautious step forward and relaxing when the wyvern made no move to attack her, Small One offered a soft croon in greeting. Bold One looked at her as if she was crazy, but Small One ignored her. The wyvern tilted its head again, but didn’t respond, so Small One tried again. The second time, the rock wyvern seemed to understand, and it offered its own sound, a growl that sounded like rocks falling. Small One wasn’t sure if that was supposed to be friendly or not, but she chose to believe it was. With short, clear tones, she asked the wyvern if it had seen any firemanes or glitterscales around. A vacant stare was her only reply. Small One puffed air through her snout, then tried again, as slowly and clearly as she could.

The wyvern simply looked at her and gave no hint of understanding. Bold One chirred in amusement at the expression on Small One’s face, but Small One took a deep breath (and winced, because her ribs were not healed), and tried one last time. This time, the wyvern responded… with the exact same sound it had used to greet her. Small One hissed in exasperation as Bold One made a chuffing sound next to her, trying to figure out a way to get the wyvern to answer her question. If she could get an answer out of it, it would save them a lot of aimless wandering. She sat in thought for a moment, before trying a new tactic. She gestured to herself with a talon and gave a sharp bark. The wyvern looked at her. Good, she had its attention. Next, she pointed her talon at the sky and repeated that same noise. The rock wyvern stared at her talon for a moment, then back at her.

Small One gnashed her teeth. Her language and that of the wyvern were just too different for this to work. The sun was just beginning to rise, and having abandoned her attempts at communicating, Small One laid back down in the space between the two crystals and tried to sleep again. Unfortunately, the creeping dawn and her own fears of the power in her horns kept her from resting. The rock wyvern began to shuffle around and find stones to crunch on, thankfully leaving the two dragons in peace. Small One was amazed at how tolerant it was being. By all rights it should have been furiously roaring and threatening them until they left, but it was perfectly happy to share with them.

Still, when the sun had fully risen, Small One and Bold One immediately stood up to leave. Something about sleeping in another’s nest did not feel right to Small One. As they headed towards the tunnel entrance, Small One cast one last glance at the grey rock wyvern, debating whether or not it was worth it to try and communicate with it one last time. As she did, though, she realised why she hadn’t been able to get her message across. In the light, she could see the wyvern’s eyes properly. Though they were gentle and passive, they were also duller than any dragon’s would be. There was no great spark of intelligence to be found, and she got the distinct impression that it was still a juvenile itself. She didn’t think it was  _ stupid _ , per se, but it certainly didn’t understand as much about the world as she and Bold One did.

With that disappointment weighing on her mind, Small One followed Bold One into the cave entrance. Once again, Small One trusted Bold One to lead, hopefully to a place where either a friendly adult glitterscale or something small and easy to kill could be found. She had no recollection of the path they had taken through the maze of corridors the previous day, her thoughts having been consumed by the pain of her injuries and the fear of herself that lurked in the back of her mind even now. Though they moved quicker than they had yesterday, with Bold One’s leg healing, Small One quickly found herself being worn down. Her various injuries had only barely healed while she slept, and they were flaring up more and more with each step she took.

After a while of wandering down various twists and turns, by which point Small One was fairly sure Bold One was as lost as she was, they found themselves at the base of the volcano. The black stone faded to a dusty grey, coated with ash, and thin rivers of lava flowed slowly along the ground, surfaces beginning to harden. A few thin, shrivelled trees desperately clung to life here and there, but the thing which most caught Small One’s attention were the trio of brown-furred things with long tusks. The tusked things were sniffing around on the ground, not even keeping an eye out for predators. At the sight of them, Small One’s stomach twinged, and she pressed herself into a stalking stance, ignoring the protests from her ribs. Bold One, on the other hand, was harder to ignore when she gave Small One an admonishing nip on the snout and an order to date where she was.

Bold One crouched, taking careful steps as she crept up on the tusked prey. They were so fixated on searching for food that they didn’t see her until she leapt for one, raking it with her claws and killing it instantly. The other two looked at her, but rather than run away like any sane creature would, they began pawing at the ground. Small One blinked. Did they seriously intend to charge her after witnessing her slaughter one of their own? Bold One responded to their challenge by spraying them with dust and igniting it, charring them alive. Small One strode up to the trio of carcasses, digging into the unburned one. Bold One happily devoured one of the two she had set on fire. Small One snorted, wondering how Bold One actually preferred burnt prey to raw prey. Burnt prey tasted like ash and left annoying little flakes that got stuck between her teeth.

With hunger finally sated, Small One found herself licking at the roof of her mouth. There was surely water nearby somewhere, or else there couldn’t be so much life. With that thought in mind, the pair set off in the direction with the most trees, leaving their kills behind. Idly, Small One wondered if the kills would attract any sort of creatures to the area. Perhaps it might even draw in an adult glitterscale. Small One huffed at that thought. If only she had been able to ask the rock wyvern. Still, the dragon hunt could wait until after her thirst was slaked, so she ignored her aching legs and fell into step alongside Bold One.

After a short while of walking, they came to a steaming pool of water. Small One was suspicious of it almost immediately. Its water was cloudy and stagnant, and there was a horrible, rotten smell coming from it. There was nothing swimming or growing in it either. Small One didn’t think it would be safe to drink, so she and Bold One moved on, until they came to another pond. This one smelled vaguely foul as well, but its water was mostly clear and a light coating of green scum covered the rocks within it, so she decided to take the risk and take a few drinks from it. After that, she settled down for a rest, her aching legs finally getting the better of her. Bold One gave her a light glare, but curled up next to her, the pair watching the clouds together as they rested.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How much has Small One recovered? (/100%)  
> Small One rolls a 14. 14% recovery.
> 
> Is the nest unoccupied? (Luck = 10)  
> Small One rolls a 3 (required 10). Failure.
> 
> Is the nest’s occupant peaceful? (Luck = 10)  
> Small One rolls an 18 (required 10). Success.
> 
> Does Small One figure out how to communicate with the Basarios? (Intelligence = 12)  
> Small One rolls a 4 (required 8). Failure.
> 
> I can’t be the only one who thinks Basarios is really cute, right? He’s just a chubby little rocky boi who really doesn’t deserve to be hunted. Also I was really tired while writing this, so there may be a bit of a dip in quality.


	54. Delicate Negotiations

Small One would have happily sat by the steaming pool all day if she could, but fate had other ideas. A shadow passed overhead, causing Small One to crane her neck upwards to look. A pair of flying wyverns, one red, one green, flew past at shocking speed, followed by three more pairs. Small One watched them with her head tilted. They were all flying away from the volcano, as if they were fleeing from something. To add to the oddity, an entire herd of hard-shelled, pincered creatures were skittering away from the volcano too, along with spike-tailed grazers and even the pointlessly aggressive tusked things. She turned to look at the volcano but saw nothing out of the ordinary. It didn’t look like it was about to explode, or anything. In the back of her mind, she shivered. The exodus reminded her of the night that Twisted One had appeared, and every dragon for miles around had fled.

Bold One was watching too, growling softly. She nudged Small One to get up, suggesting that they follow the crowds and flee as well, but Small One was too curious for that. These creatures were all fleeing from  _ something _ , but she would have been able to feel the awful crawling in her scales if Twisted One was nearby. That meant that they were fleeing from some other massively powerful beast. Like, perhaps, an adult glitterscale. Relaying that thought to Bold One earned her an exasperated sigh, but Bold One nonetheless turned to face the angry-looking mountain. The pair of dragons trotted back up to the cave entrance they had come from, seeing that the trio of tusked prey had been picked at by poison-spitters.

The poison-spitting wyverns were the only living things left near the base of the mountain. All was silent aside from the sound of the ever-present churning of lava, and it was only then that Small One realised the volcano had previously been echoing with roars and chirps and other noises. Without them, the place had an eerie, still atmosphere. It didn’t get any better when Bold One lead Small One into an open cavern with a lava pool, and there was not a pile of rocks or deadly fin to be seen, or indeed, any movement. Somewhere in the back of her mind Small One was starting to think that this may have been a bad idea, but they were in it now so they may as well keep going. They walked along the rim of a huge lava lake, keeping a wary eye for any beak-clackers.

It was quite a while of laborious wandering through the cavernous depths of the volcano before Small One and Bold One finally discovered the source of all the unrest. In one particularly sprawling cave, a proud red firemane stood, casually pulling at the carcass of what looked like a big black swimming thing with legs. Small One was astounded. The giant swimming thing was bigger than she was, bigger even than the firemane who was eating it, but he seemed to have been utterly unharmed by it as he dug into his kill. Small One trembled slightly. The last time she had seen any adult firemanes was in the crater during the war. They had been friendly enough back then, but times had changed. Bold One stared contemplatively at the male, and Small One wondered what she was thinking.

Hesitantly, Small One took a few steps forward with head dipped low, chirping a greeting to the firemane. At once, he snapped his head towards her and growled, causing Small One to flinch back. There was no recognition in his eyes. If he had ever lived in the crater, he didn’t remember her, or perhaps he simply didn’t care. Bold One tried next, offering a happy-sounding bark, but the male snarled and bared his massive teeth, a flicker of flame gathering near his head. He fanned out his wings and pressed himself into prime pouncing position. Small One dipped her head even lower and folded her wings as tightly as she could, tail hanging low. She offered a soft croon, in what she hoped was a good imitation of the firemane tongue, but again the male snarled, this time adding a gnashing of his teeth for good measure.

Bold One lightly rubbed a wingclaw on Small One’s back. Time to back down, she was saying. Small One stubbornly pressed on with the firemane, despite Bold One’s warnings. Unlike the grey rock wyvern, Small One  _ knew  _ a firemane would be able to understand and answer her. If there was any creature in this flaming mountain capable of telling her if Furious One was here or not, this would be it. She took one determined step closer to the growling adult, her defiant chirps rising into the air.

That was a step too far, apparently. With a screeching roar, the firemane launched himself at her, the air shimmering as heat rolled from his mane. His great horns came within a talon’s width of striking her in the face. A cloud of red dust billowed all around, sticking to Small One’s scales and flickering ominously. She yelped, scrambling backwards to escape from the raging dragon just as he struck his teeth together and the whole cloud went up in an explosion, Small One narrowly avoiding the blaze. Nearby, though Small One couldn’t see her through the lingering dust, Bold One called out angrily in a tone that Small One had come to learn meant ‘I told you so’. Small One ducked to one side, turning to face the cave entrance they had come from. There were times to fight, and times to run, and this was one of the latter.

Bold One was way ahead of her, already a fair ways down the tunnel. As Small One ran, she jerked and spasmed, struggling to rid herself of the dust that, even now, was growing hotter and hotter. The firemane was hot on their heels, his angry growls and pounding footfalls spurring them onwards. Small One’s injured legs and ribs were screaming at her to stop and catch her breath, slowing her against her will. Bold One turned her head to look at Small One with concern, before her eye widened and she put on another burst of speed. Small One tried to do the same, but her pain and exhaustion were rapidly catching up to her. As if to add insult to injury, the dust coating her back and chest finally went off, sending her to the ground in a small, but painful explosion. She groaned and tried to get back up, but her legs had no desire to cooperate.

With Small One on the ground, the red firemane no longer had to run to catch her, choosing instead to stroll up imperiously. He scowled down at her, then pressed one scorching paw onto her throat, leering over her. Small One whimpered and waited for the end, but suddenly Bold One was standing over her, barking and chittering fiercely at the older firemane. Though much of their conversation was lost to her, she spoke good enough firemane to catch bits and pieces of it. The adult wished to punish them, for what Small One assumed was the crime of threatening his kill and his territory, while Bold One lived up to her name and boldly argued their case, insisting that they sought information and no more.

Eventually, the red firemane released his grip on Small One’s throat, glaring at her as she quickly scrambled away to stand next to Bold One. Through the entire verbal debate, Small One could see both Bold One and the adult curling their talons and twitching their wings, but neither moved to attack the other and so she chose to believe the discussion was going alright. With one final, firm roar, the red firemane turned to return to his kill, casting a last dirty look at Small One as he went. Bold One breathed a sigh of relief and gave a happy chitter… then immediately rounded on Small One and gave her a sharp nip on the snout, chiding her for being an idiot.

Small One accepted the admonishment, knowing that if it wasn’t for Bold One she most certainly would have been dead. Bold One huffed, then explained that the male wanted them to leave his territory, and that if he saw either of them again he would kill them on sight. He had not seen any glitterscales, and had apparently thought them extinct until he saw Small One. Small One felt her heart sink at that. The one-horn in the woods had said the same thing. That the glitterscales were gone. But the deepest part of her refused to believe it. As Bold One lead the way down the corridors and away from the red firemane, that thought lingered on her mind, her resolve being chipped away ever so slowly. Could she truly be the very last glitterscale?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does Small One manage to reason with the Teostra? (Intelligence = 12)  
> Small One rolls a 5 (required 8). Failure.
> 
> Does Small One escape from the Teostra? (Finesse = 9)  
> Injuries affect Small One’s roll (-3)  
> Small One rolls an 11 - 3 = 8 (required 11). Failure.
> 
> Is Bold One able to talk the Teostra down? (Intelligence = 9)  
> Intraspecies relations affects Bold One’s roll (+1)  
> Bold One rolls an 8 + 1 = 9 (required 11). Partial success.
> 
> The dice are just not cooperating lately. They don’t like the volcano setting, apparently.


	55. Moving On

Small One and Bold One spent the next few months cautiously ducking around the volcano, staying out of sight of the angry red firemane. They had both agreed that even if they were to try and leave the volcano, they would have to wait until Small One’s wounds had healed. Despite the constant fear of the red firemane, Small One found volcano life to be to her liking. The heat was actually quite nice once she had gotten used to it, and the overabundance of life, from beak-clackers to rockpiles to lava-swimmers to red and green flying wyverns, brought her back to happier times when the old crater had seemed like a paradise. Some of that life was rather hostile, however, and it took Small One and Bold One a while to carve out a little slice of territory for themselves. Some part of Small One was indignant that none of the other beasts seemed to regard her as worth fleeing from, but she begrudgingly admitted that she was still rather small and non-threatening compared to the rugged beasts of fire and stone that prowled the volcano.

Her wounds had mostly mended themselves, gradually, though her ribs were still tender. A subtle but ugly lump marked the spot where they had been broken, and Small One had a sneaking suspicion that it would be there for a long time, if not until the day she died. As soon as she was well enough, she had joined Bold One in prowling around in search of prey. The volcano’s inhabitants were made of sterner stuff than the desert’s. Many were covered in hard shells or flowing lava, or were simply too big for Small One and Bold One to reasonably bring down. Even some of the smaller grazers were equipped with tough shells or spiked tails. The easiest prey to catch were the suicidally aggressive tusked things, but it seemed every other predator had the same idea, turning tusked things into a rare prize.

All the while, they were wary of the red firemane. When it seemed like the wyverns were moving away, they followed, not wanting to be caught by the volcano’s true master. The constant sneaking around and fleeing bruised Small One’s pride, but her true terror was in what she heard in the back of her mind when the fleeing began. A traitorous whisper in her own inner voice, suggesting she use her power. After all, she was a glitterscale, a master of the elements, and firemanes had a dislike for ice and for the crackling black energy that coated her claws and screamed in her mind. What was stopping her from simply claiming the volcano for her own? She was smaller and younger, but she could best him in a fight, the whisper told her. All she had to do was embrace the power she was too afraid to use. Each time the thoughts invaded, Small One squeezed her eyes shut and whimpered, heart screaming in dread of the sparkles and the raging forces she had no control over.

Bold One’s soft, sympathetic nuzzles helped calm her down through it, and by some miracle she never lost her tenuous hold on herself. But each time they fled, the whisper grew louder, and Small One shrank back in fear. Desperately, she clung to the idea that finding an adult glitterscale would help, that an adult could teach her how to bend the terrifying power to her will. But there were no adult glitterscales to be found. Small One had wandered every corridor and explored every cavern, and never once met another of her kind, or found any hint of one. The thought terrified her almost as much as the traitorous whisper. There  _ had  _ to be another glitterscale out there somewhere, even if they were just a youngling like her. Both one-horn and firemane must have been mistaken when they said there were no glitterscales left.

But there were none in the volcano, and that was a fact. The volcano held nothing but an angry emperor and intrusive thoughts, and despite all its comforts, Small One felt herself grow restless. Her wings twitched and ruffled, she caught herself staring wistfully at the sky, and as soon as her wounds had healed to an ignorable level, she wanted to leave. Bold One’s response when Small One announced her intention to leave was one of exasperation. She had spent all that time trying to find the place, and now Small One wanted to leave again? Small One carefully explained her reasoning, the near-miss in the desert and Clever One’s departure lingering in the back of her mind. The volcano was dangerous. On their first day Small One had nearly been killed by a beak-clacker and on their second they accidentally got on the bad side of the dominant dragon. Try as they might, they couldn’t sneak around him forever, not if they planned on holding a good territory with plentiful prey. Fighting wasn’t an option (yes it was, said the whisper), and so the best idea was to leave.

Bold One huffed and pressed herself onto the scorching stones for emphasis, complaining rather bitterly about how the volcano was the perfect place for her to live. Wherever Small One took her, unless it was another volcano it would never suit her as well as this particular place did. Small One gave a soft whine, hoping against hope not to hear what she dreaded most: that Bold One would stay behind, and she would be alone again. But Bold One’s annoyed gaze softened, and she gave a trill. Small One practically melted with relief. Bold One would follow Small One, because Bold One trusted Small One and they had gone through a lot together, and so she would trust that this new place would be good.

Small One leered, showing off her tusks. She had actually been thinking of an old place rather than a new place. The crater where they had spent the first years of their lives had never quite been reached by the war. Any and all damage it had suffered was a result of the overabundance of dragons inhabiting it. And somewhere in the back of her mind, Small One remembered that Clever One had first found Furious One there. Perhaps he had recovered from his ordeal with Twisted One and returned home? Either way, there hadn’t been any dragons there for years, so there would surely be ample hunting opportunity. Bold One looked skeptical, but Small One had been saving her best tactic for last. Out loud, she wondered if Fearless One—the gentle mountain who had played host to countless hours of childish play and made a safe place to sleep—was still sleeping away in the crater, and whether or not she was lonely without any hatchlings to climb on her.

Bold One fixed Small One with a level glare, but Small One puffed her chest out and smirked. She knew Bold One adored Fearless One, just as much if not more than Small One did. It was a dirty tactic, but Small One was not at all above it. Bold One huffed, then finally relented in full. They would hunt down as much prey as they could devour, then strike out. It was a long day spent hunting. Tusked things were in short supply, and the hard-shelled grazers were annoying to take apart and eat. Still, Bold One and Small One managed to pull in a small feast between them, Small One having robbed a group of red pack hunters of their kill. Their leader had barked and hissed at her in defiance, and he had made a fine addition to Small One’s meal when she pounced on him as his pack wisely fled.

The next morning, just as the sun was beginning to rise, Small One and Bold One took wing, flying away from the fiery mountain they had called home for the last few months. Bold One looked back at it with yearning in her eye, and Small One was half afraid that she would turn around to return to it. But Bold One kept flying alongside her friend, off across the grassland and the hills, in search of the place they had called home as hatchlings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How much more has Small One recovered? (/86%)  
> Small One rolls a 64 + 14 = 78% recovery.
> 
> Where does Small One want to go? (1 = Tundra, 2 = Across the sea, 3 = Back to the crater)  
> Small One rolls a 3. Back to the crater.
> 
> Does she convince Bold One to come with her? (Intelligence = 12)  
> Bold One’s volcanic adaptation affects Small One’s roll (-3)  
> Small One rolls a 16 - 3 = 13 (required 8). Success.
> 
> I damn near had a heart attack because at first glance I thought the 16 was a 6. Dice playing games with me.
> 
> Also I’m super tired today for some reason, which is odd because I didn’t actually do much today aside from have a single lecture. So you get another one of these intermediate chapters that I’m sure aren’t very interesting. Sorry!


	56. Old Friends

Small One took the lead as they flew away from the volcano, ignoring the nagging ache in her left side. Figuring out where they were relative to the crater was a bit of a guessing game after Bold One’s confused twisting around, but after a week of semi-lost flying, Small One managed to find the hills and small forest where they had bid farewell to Clever One. When she and Bold One landed to take a rest, Small One made a point of searching around for their friend. But there was no sign of him anywhere. He must have left in search of a more bountiful place to live. It was disappointing, but there was no time to linger on it. Now that she knew where she was, finding her way back to the ever-present landmark of the tower was easy.

She was pleased to note that there were more wyverns sharing the sky with them now. They weren’t particularly large wyverns, but they were much more plentiful than they had been before. Upon passing the husk of the tower, Small One was equally pleased to see that the forest that had sheltered her in her first week was looking healthier too. The new trees were taller and thicker than they had been before, though it was still nowhere near big enough to support her. With all the new growth, it was almost possible to ignore the myriad rotting tree trunks that made up the forest floor, and the shattered stone nests that creeping vines were using as support. In time, Small One supposed, the forest would swallow up the death-prey’s nests entirely, and perhaps future dragons and wyverns wouldn’t even know what the odd stone piles used to be. Maybe even the death-prey themselves would forget.

Small One snorted as she flew over yet another crumbling ruin. She hoped the death-prey remembered their former glory, if for no other reason than to remind them that it had been a folly to think themselves the conquerors of all. When she and Bold One coasted over the edge of the forest, Small One once again found herself staring into the open maw of the ravine. As always, she entertained thoughts of diving down and searching for the nest of her hatching, but quickly banished them again. Now was not the time to linger in the vague hopes that perhaps her long-lost Mother would be there waiting for her. If Mother had ever intended to care for her, she would have been there from the start. Perhaps Mother could have taught her how to command the power that lurked in her horns.

Shaking the thoughts from her head, Small One carried on with Bold One in tow, heading for the familiar ridge of mountains in the distance. The rockfield had been stained a deep, ashen grey, but the river’s water was still clear and it made an ideal place to stop and rest for the night. Small One was reminded of that night with Furious One, when he had first told her of his thoughts of war. Idly, she wondered what might have been different if he had never decided to wage war on the death-prey. After a moment’s thought, she came to the depressing realisation that nothing would have changed. After all, the dragons hadn’t been the ones to destroy the death-prey. It was Twisted One who did that, and all by himself, no less. He would have destroyed them one way or another eventually. In light of that thought, all the dragons had really accomplished with their war was to diminish their own numbers to almost nothing. Near-extinction for the glitterscales, if the one-horn and firemane were to be believed.

With those depressing thoughts on her mind, Small One’s sleep was fitful that night. Still, when she flew the next day it was with an eager heart, for the crater was within a day’s flight. Would Fearless One, or better yet, Furious One, be there waiting for her? When the mountain air currents carried her and Bold One up and over the rim, the first thing Small One noticed was how little had changed. The sparkling blue lake was pristine as always, the trees were tall and crowned with leaves, and the long grass was swaying gently in the breeze. The chunks of flying metal beast were still strewn around wherever Fearless One had left them, but now a layer of fuzzy green moss coated them. And speaking of Fearless One, the sight of a familiar red mountain made Small One’s heart soar, and she heard Bold One let out a delighted chirp behind her.

Fearless One was stretched out in her favourite napping spot, eyes closed like always. Small One wondered, not for the first time, how the grass beneath her was even still alive. She screeched out a greeting as she dove towards the gentle giant, and one of the huge eyes cracked open. At first, Fearless One regarded them with dull confusion, like she didn’t understand who they were and didn’t particularly care. But then her eyes lit up with recognition, and she lifted her head to rumble out a warm greeting. Small One alighted next to her, and the first thing she noticed was how much smaller Fearless One looked to now. Of course, the living mountain was still absolutely gigantic, but Small One remembered once being so tiny that the horn on Fearless One’s snout was a mountain all of its own.

Despite the years and how they had changed the pair of dragons, Fearless One seemed to remember them, if her slow, thrumming calls were anything to go by. Small One did her best to parse the older dragon’s slow and drawn-out speech, but the task was quite difficult when the sounds she made were so deep and powerful that Small One felt them rather than heard them. Bold One had an easier time of it, managing to figure out that Fearless One was asking them what they were doing back here. It took a few attempts, but eventually Bold One was able to lower her voice into a very rough impersonation of Fearless One’s and explain that they were looking for Furious One, or any other adult glitterscales. After a long time spent thinking, during which Small One was fairly sure Fearless One drifted off to sleep again, the living mountain eventually declared that she had not seen Furious One since the night he vanished.

Small One tried not to let the disappointment get to her, and instead focused on the ways in which Fearless One might be mistaken. Perhaps the living mountain had simply been asleep when Furious One had visited. Or maybe he had returned, and Fearless One had forgotten. In her heart, though, she knew that was unlikely. Fearless One had a long memory. The fact that she remembered both Small One and Bold One after five years was proof enough of that. It was starting to look as though Twisted One may truly have killed him. She shuddered as she thought back to the black beast’s words so long ago, preserved crystal clear in her memory.  _ “I had a nice long chat with him already. I say he gave you the horns up. Whether he actually did or not is irrelevant.” _

Small One banished the dark thoughts from her mind. She would search the whole world for him if she had to, just to prove she wasn’t the last of her kind. He had to be  _ somewhere _ . If Twisted One really had killed him, he would have gloated about it. The sick, wrong, evil beast loved to brag and gloat about all the death and destruction he wrought. With new resolve burning, Small One set about stalking the crater for something to kill. They would rest and recover, and then they would move on again. Small One would fly to the ends of the world until she finally dragged Furious One out of hiding. Because she couldn’t be the last. She  _ couldn’t _ . 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How much more has Small One recovered? (/22%)  
> Small One rolls a 3 + 78 = 81. 81% recovery.
> 
> Does Small One find Clever One? (Luck = 10)  
> Small One rolls a 9 (required 10). Failure.
> 
> Is Fearless One still in the crater? (Luck = 10)  
> Small One rolls a 19 (required 10). Success.
> 
> Ah, what a tease that Clever One roll was. Missed him by one number. Shorter one tonight, I apologise, but it seemed like a good stopping point.


	57. Misty Peaks

The following day, Small One had successfully killed an alpha pack hunter for herself and Bold One to share. It seemed that five years with only one lazy dragon had given the crater time to recover. All of the little furry prey were back, but by now those were much too small for Small One to bother with. The pair spent a long evening playing around Fearless One, just as they had as hatchlings. The old mountain dragon watched them with a sparkle of bemusement in her eyes, but when it was time to go, there was a contemplative look on her face. Small One and Bold One turned to her to try and say goodbye, but rather than resume sleeping, Fearless One hauled herself to her feet. At first Small One was a bit afraid that she would offer to carry them—it would be a nice offer, but Small One planned on scouring the whole world, and at Fearless One paces, that would take centuries. But after a bit of hasty communication attempts, Small One managed to figure out her true intentions. She’d finally rested enough and was ready to begin wandering the world again.

Inwardly Small One was glad that Fearless One would be going her own way and not expecting the juveniles to follow her. As Fearless One slowly began to clamber out of the crater, Small One turned to Bold One to discuss their destination. She was expecting a fight on this one, but there was no getting out of it. She’d made up her mind. Doing her best to come off as confident, Small One declared that they would be flying as far north as their wings would take them, to investigate the frozen north. Bold One looked as though she had eaten a mouthful of bugs. She opened her mouth to protest, but Small One quickly cut her off. The one-horn had claimed the cold lands were on the road to recovery, so if there was anywhere that would be able to support a large dragon, it would be there.

Bold One’s glare had enough fire in it to melt the entire tundra before they even got there. Her frustration was made abundantly clear when she rather huffily stated that she should have stayed in the volcano. She wasn’t built for the cold. Small One tried to placate her, but in the end Bold One agreed that they would fly to the north and if they didn’t find Furious One within three days, then Bold One would leave whether Small One came with her or not. Small One agreed to those terms rather reluctantly. She didn’t want to lose out on the only chance she had of finding an adult who could guide her, but she didn’t want to lose her friend either. In her mind, she decided that they were just going to have to find Furious One in the first three days. After that… well, it would probably work itself out.

With those conditions in mind, Small One and Bold One set out, the rising sun to their right. Small One had no idea how far away the ice covered lands to the north were, but she assumed that simply flying in a straight line would get them there eventually. Perhaps they might even fly over a place that would make a good permanent territory. They flew for days on end, divebombing anything unlucky enough to be below them and landing for quick drinks at any rivers they passed. At one point they were accosted by an angry green wyvern with electricity pulsing through its wings, but Bold One frightened it off with a few blasts of flame. Small One got the impression it was just trying to keep them away from its territory, not that she had any real interest in the small clump of trees it had claimed for its own.

Eventually, after almost two weeks of flight with very little rest, they came to an imposing ridge of mountains, so tall and steep they made the crater look like a pile of dirt by comparison. The range’s jagged peaks were shrouded in mist, and Small One lead Bold One through as carefully as she could, often having to duck protrusions of stone as they emerged from the fog at the last second. Small One was rather disappointed that though the air was cold so high up, it was nothing on the level of the devastating chill that hardskins brought with them. That meant they weren’t far enough to the north yet. Still, the mountains offered a place to give their wings a much needed rest, and so Small One and Bold One landed near the banks of a wide, slow-moving river. It seemed the misty mountains were doing quite well for themselves, too, with lush reeds and pure, clean water.

To Bold One’s delight, the water was full of swimming things, and Small One watched as she splashed around in the shallows trying to catch the slimy prey. While Small One lounged about, she was endlessly fascinated by the flickering bugs that kept landing on her. Each one glowed from within, some yellow, some blue. Whenever one landed on her, Small One could swear she felt the faintest hint of a spark jumping from the bug to her. Idly, she wondered if Clever One would have liked to eat them or if the spark would have put him off. These mountains seemed like the sort of place he would like. Misty, isolated, and crawling with his favourite foods. Small One thought she might be able to live here too, assuming there was enough large prey around. Every now and then something big splashed about in the river, but she couldn’t see what it was. Probably just a particularly large swimming thing.

At last, Bold One stepped up to Small One with her jaws full of wriggling swimming prey and her legs dripping water. One of her catches fell from her jaws and flopped about pathetically in front of Small One, who stared at it with as much contempt as she could muster. Bold One quickly stepped on it to still its thrashing, then set about devouring her cold, slimy, disgusting meal. As she watched her friend, she decided that they would rest in the peaceful mountain peaks for the night, before continuing on to the north. In such a remote place, it was unlikely that there would be any predators that could actually pose a serious threat to the duo. So, for the rest of the evening, Small One explored the area around the river, before finally settling down for the first proper rest she’d had in a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where does Small One decide to fly? (1 = coast, 2 = tundra, 3 = desert, 4 = past the crater)  
> Small One rolls a 2. Tundra.
> 
> I’m well aware that essentially nothing happened this chapter and that it was very short. It’s because I wrote this during my breaks in between writing up an assignment. Let it be known that chimpanzees are very boring animals to observe, and statistics suck. Never let it be said that herpetologists have an easy job.
> 
> I lent serious thought to just skipping tonight, but I know for a fact I’ll lose momentum if I do that. Gotta keep the ball rolling. I’ll try to make up for it tomorrow.


	58. Storm God

Small One came to awareness rather sharply, in the dead of night, when a glowing bug landed on her snout and shocked her. She snapped her eyes open to glare at the offending creature, but suddenly realised that an entire swarm of them were landing all over her, giving her a quick jolt and then flying off in a cloud back to where they had come from. Curiosity piqued, Small One left the still-sleeping Bold One behind and followed the trail of glowing bugs, weaving through thin trees and splashing through a shallow marshy area. Eventually the bugs lead her to a clearing, the swarm coming to a rest on the back of an eerily glowing figure that swaggered along like it owned the place. Given its size, Small One could almost believe it did.

In the dark, the harsh glow from its underside made it difficult to figure out exactly what it was, but it had a lithe profile and four strong-looking legs. All along its back, the glowing bugs were nesting, occasionally lighting up its shaggy fur with a current of electricity. Even as it swaggered, Small One caught it glaring up at the sky, as if there was something up there that had offended it. Casting her own glance at the sky, she saw nothing out of the ordinary, aside from an approaching storm system that would likely be moving in soon. Suddenly, a cluster of bugs detached themselves from the figure’s back and sped towards Small One, zapping her on the snout before she had a chance to swat them away. At once, the beast turned its head towards Small One, the glowing lines on its face looking menacing in the dark.

At once, Small One was on the alert. The glowing beast didn’t look particularly pleased to see her. Suddenly, it began to howl, a loud noise that pierced Small One’s ears and went straight into her head. The glowing bugs began to swarm with more and more fervour, until with a burst of electricity, the beast’s now-glowing fur stood on end. With its entire body lit up, Small One could make out the glowfur’s body a lot better. Its claws looked fearsome, and she immediately decided she was going to stay away from those if it did decide to attack her. It rolled its head and shoulders in a loose, cocky motion, as if it was taunting Small One and daring her to attack it. She snarled and opened her wings, tossing her head to show off her fearsome horns. It was bigger than her, but not by much.

For a moment, she kept her eyes locked with the glowfur’s, a battle of wills that neither wanted to back down on. Small One was reasonably confident she could take it in a fight. She’d found that most electrical shocks didn’t affect her all that much, aside from the agony inflicted by her own horns. It was the claws and fangs she had to worry about. Fortunately, it seemed the glowfur had bigger priorities than messing with her, as it suddenly turned back up to the sky and howled, with notes of frustration creeping into its voice. Again, Small One looked up at the sky and saw nothing particularly odd, aside from the gathering clouds. The glowfur barked at her, and Small One could take a hint: it wanted her to leave but had decided she was probably too dangerous to risk a fight with. That was fine by her; she had only followed it out here because its bug friends caught her eye.

Returning to the place where she had left Bold One, Small One discovered her friend had somehow slept through the entire thing. She curled up to try and catch the rest of her sleep, still a bit curious about what in the sky had gotten the glowfur so riled up. When next she woke up, it was to the musty, all-encompassing smell of sky water. Blinking open her dripping eyes, she found she could barely see her snout in front of her face through the pouring water and the suffusive mist. A chill breeze was blowing, cutting straight through her soaked scales and right into the bone. Small One shivered a bit, but suddenly realised her left side was particularly warm. It felt nice on her still-aching ribs—all the hard flying she’d been doing had not at all aided in their recovery. Small One looked down and saw that Bold One had shoved her face beneath her broad, black wing in an effort to escape the sky water. Her plan might have worked, if she’d hidden more than just her head.

In the distance, Small One heard the glowfur howl again, rage and fear scrambling together in its voice. She cocked her head and stood up, ignoring Bold One’s protests. In the mist, it was near impossible to see where anything was, but something had spooked the glowfur and Small One didn’t want to stick around to find out what it was. Trusting in her memory of whether the air above was clear or not, Small One carefully took off, straining against the howling winds that tried to force her back down. A thoroughly soaked Bold One followed behind her, her wet mane whipping around in the wind and sticking to her face. Moving at as slow a pace as gravity would allow her, Small One ascended, hoping to find a break in the mist where they could finally be out of the sky water. But the mist seemed to be endless, and no matter how high Small One climbed, she couldn’t even see a hint of the sun above.

She very rapidly lost track of where she was and which direction she was going in the storm. All she could really see of Bold One was a hazy blue silhouette in the fog, which led to the pair using chirps and barks to try and keep each other in focus. As Small One blundered around in the misty air, she felt a charge build up in the vapour around her. A muffled howl sounded from below, which she assumed was the same glowfur. She snarled down at where she thought it was. If it was responsible for the building current, she may just consider following its howls and attacking it. The prickling didn’t hurt, but it didn’t feel particularly nice, either.

Before she had a chance to decide whether it would be worth it to dive blindly on the howling beast, a murky and indistinct figure appeared in the mist ahead of her, the winds seeming to intensify and try to push her away from it. At first, Small One thought it was Bold One, but a quick glance behind her found her friend struggling along behind. Squinting at the shape in the mist, Small One managed to get close enough to see that it was long and serpentine, and that it seemed to dance and twist along in the air without the aid of wings. After racking her mind for a moment, she remembered where she had seen these movements before. It was a sky-swimmer. No wonder it was so stormy. Without other dragons to be mindful of, the sky-swimmer was free to make things as wet and windy as it pleased.

Still, despite the inconvenience it was causing, Small One was rather pleased to see it. It was likely the thing which had frightened the glowfur, but Small One knew from experience at the crater that sky-swimmers weren’t particularly violent creatures until they were provoked. Straining against the wind, Small One flapped closer to it and called out. Her voice was swallowed up by the wind and the mist, so she tried again, louder this time. It took several attempts, until she was practically roaring, before the sky-swimmer answered with a call of its own. At once, the winds weakened just a bit, making flying easier for Small One. She wished she could manipulate the weather like that. It would make flying so much easier. As soon as the wind was down to a manageable level, Small One greeted the sky-swimmer, right as Bold One stalled next to her, looking extremely displeased with the entire situation.

The sky-swimmer seemed friendly enough, offering her own greeting in kind. Not wanting to force Bold One to spend any more time in the drenched air, Small One got straight to the point and asked the sky-swimmer if she had seen any gliterscales around. To Small One’s immense surprise, the sky-swimmer answered almost immediately with a rather firm yes. If it weren’t for the wind keeping her at a healthy distance, Small One would probably have flown right up to the sky-swimmer and locked eyes with her. As it was, she settled for simply asking her where and when. The sky-swimmer claimed to have seen one in an abandoned death-prey nest, a little ways into where the land turned to ice. She claimed the glitterscale had been grounded, simply standing proud above the ruins.

That was all Small One needed to hear. There was another of her kind, it was in the icy lands, and there was no time to waste because that was where they needed to go, immediately. A hasty thanks was flung back at the sky-swimmer as Small One flew through the mist at top speed, Bold One struggling to catch up. She needed to get to the north faster than ever now. Because I was just as her heart had told her, she  _ couldn’t  _ be the last, and now she had proof that she wasn’t. She just had to go and find it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How much more has Small One recovered? (/19%)  
> Small One rolls a 2 + 81 = 83% recovery.
> 
> Does Small One intimidate the Zinogre? (Strength = 9)  
> Small One rolls a 13 (required 11). Success.
> 
> Does Small One get information from the Amatsu? (Intelligence = 12)  
> Small One rolls a 9 (required 8). Success.
> 
> This one was supposed to be longer, but I ran out of time. Plus it would have been an absolute monstrosity of a chapter that I probably wouldn’t have had time to even pretend to edit.


	59. Arctic Ridge

Bold One had some bitter complaining to do the entire flight, and Small One was growing quite sick of it. She whined about the fact that Small One hadn’t let her pause to dry her mane. She whined about her wings being tired. She whined about being cold, when wet scales and chilled air combined to pierce her skin. She whined about being hungry, she whined about being thirsty, she whined about Small One’s accelerated pace, and she probably would have found something else to whine about had Small One not rounded on her and angrily snapped at her to please be  _ quiet. _ Small One’s focus was entirely on getting to the cold lands, and Bold One’s constant noises were getting in the way of that. In a bid to find the glitterscale as quickly as possible, Small One had found the best thermals she could and soared straight ahead, well past the range of the misty mountaintops. In the lowlands below, there was a river basin that had probably been more bountiful before Twisted One or the death-prey had blocked up most of the water’s flow.

Slow-moving grazers peacefully roamed in the loamy basin and browsed on the hardy shrubs and dry grass, but Small One didn’t want to waste any time diving after them. They were easy prey, and it would scarce take more than a few moments to fall upon one and kill it, but those were moments that could be better spent in flying. Struggling along behind, Bold One’s desire to drop down and feast was almost palpable. Small One had to admire how, despite her complaining, she kept flying alongside Small One and hardly wavered. Even as night fell and they left the basin long behind and flew towards a distant ridge of mountains so wide and impassable that they seemed to stretch across the entire horizon, Small One insisted that they keep flying. If adult glitterscales were as given to wandering as she was, then there was no telling how long they had until it moved on. And that meant that there was no time to waste sleeping. She forced herself and Bold One ever onwards, up and out of the lowlands and into the hilly slopes that lead up to the mountain ridge.

Try as she might, however, there came a point where Small One all but crashed in the muddy waters of an upland bog, followed swiftly by Bold One. Bold One, whose mane had only barely dried and was in serious need of a grooming, did not at all look pleased when she found herself floundering around in murky brown water. Even in her single-minded determination to reach the frozen lands, Small One knew that trying to take off again would be akin to throwing herself into Twisted One’s jaws, and so she reluctantly allowed herself to fall into slumber. As soon as she awoke, with the sun high in the sky and no idea how much time she’d wasted, she quickly roused Bold One and gave her just enough time to scrape the worst of the grime from her mane before they were off again. Things continued like that for a while, and Small One lost count of the days they spent in pursuit of the ice. They would fly until their wings worked no more, then they would rest and be on their way again. They stopped for water, but Small One decided that hunting would waste too much time, and so she and Bold One flew in a constant state of ravenous hunger.

Inwardly, Small One was afraid that Bold One would grow sick of her, that she would fly off and leave her alone. Small One wouldn’t even blame her, with how hard she had been pushing them both. Yet despite the gruelling conditions, Bold One stuck with Small One, even as her proud, burning mane became hopelessly tangled and greasy from lack of grooming, and excess wing dust clung to her body without things to rub it on. At last, their patience was rewarded and they reached the mountains that had been teasing them from afar. The upland regions were steep and craggy, with exposed rock and only the hardiest of plants on display. Herds of brown-furred creatures roamed the mountain meadows peacefully, some accompanied by one of the biggest beasts Small One had ever seen, with shaggy blue fur and a set of deadly-looking tusks. The gnawing in her belly suggested she dive down and snatch up one of the smaller grazers before it had a chance to react, but even if she hadn’t been in a rush, she wasn’t so sure she wanted to tangle with the big blue guardian.

The deeper into the mountain ridge they flew, the colder the air became, and the peaks gradually became tipped with more and more white, until there was no green remaining and the whole surrounding area was white. Small One found herself fixated on the soft-looking white coating that rested on the mountain peaks. She had never seen natural ice before, only that which was conjured by hardskins and Furious One. She recalled Furious One once telling her that there were places in the world where the sky water fell to the ground as soft ice, that clung to everything and swallowed up sound, so that the whole world was blanketed in silence. Perhaps these mountains were one of those places. As she dove through valleys and over white meadows, Small One found herself enjoying the quiet, and for a moment she almost forgot about the mad dash to find the other glitterscale. When the inevitable crash came, Small One tumbled into the pristine coat of white, and was astounded at how malleable it was. She left a deep furrow with her landing and found herself covered in sparkling white fragments that caught the light and made the whole place seem brighter than it really was. Even through her evident dislike for the cold, Bold One batted at the soft ice with a sparkle in her eye, making soft noises of delight when it clumped together into shapes which she could further refine by rolling it around.

After a bit of play, both tired dragons fell into a deep sleep, Small One clinging to Bold One against the cold. The sun glinted harshly on the ice to wake them up to get moving again, and Bold One made a point to remind Small One of their agreement: they had three days to find this glitterscale before Bold One would leave. Small One winced at that. She had forgotten all about that promise. That just meant they had to hurry even more. Even with the sudden increased need to rush, Small One was forced to admit that her hunger had grown beyond the point where she could safely ignore it. A few small white pack hunters hissed warily at the pair of dragons as they passed overhead, but Small One wasn’t interested in hunting them, not when her keen eyes spotted a herd of brown-furred grazers further up the mountain. These ones didn’t have a huge blue beast to guard them, and made for easy pickings. In no time at all, Small One and Bold One had taken down one each, leaving the others to frantically stampede away.

With bellies filled with warm meat for the first time in who knew how long, Small One and Bold One scoured the mountains with renewed fervour. All through the day they flew along mountain trails and shoved their heads in ice caves, searching for anything which could possibly be an old death-prey nest, but the mountains seemed to go on forever, and there was no sign of any glitterscales. Even when Small One perched atop the tallest peak she could find and scanned the area, there were no suspicious piles of stones, no patches of charred rock or torched vegetation. The icy ridges looked as if they had never even heard of war. In the distance, black clouds swirled ominously, and Small One had a sneaking suspicion that a hardskin was responsible for that. The first day ended with no success, and though Small One tried her hardest to carry on through the night, the air chilled to unbearable levels where Small One was a little surprised her wings weren’t freezing off. There was no choice but to curl up with Bold One and watch as gorgeous streaks of coloured flame lit up the night sky.

The second day yielded a similar lack of results. No matter where they flew, they couldn’t find the old nest that the sky-swimmer had spoken of, and the glitterscale never appeared in the sky or upon the soft ice. When the second night fell, there was a deep, unsettled feeling in Small One’s gut. Tomorrow was her last chance, before she would be forced to make the awful choice between her most steadfast companion and learning more about herself. By the time the sun was at its peak on the third day, Small One was despondent, for she still had not seen anything that could even be mistaken for a death-prey nest, or a glitterscale. When the sun was on its way past the horizon, Small One wasn’t even really searching anymore, simply lost in her own thoughts and struggling desperately with the thought that no matter what choice she made, she would lose something important. When the sky was dark and the dancing flames and bright stars came out, Bold One turned to her with pity in her eye but determination in her face.

Small One knew what she was about to say, and opened her mouth to protest, but Bold One cut her off before she had the chance. There was sadness in the firemane’s tone, as she nuzzled up to Small One and declared that she would be returning to the warm southern lands in the morning. Small One was welcome to join her—but she would not be swayed into staying even one more day in the frigid icy mountains. Small One didn’t want to listen, wanted to believe that there was a way to keep her friend and find proof that she wasn’t the last at the same time, but no matter how she tried to reason it out, there was no way for her to have both. In her heart, she wanted so desperately to follow Bold One back, to find an unclaimed territory that they could both rule in happiness. But she knew she couldn’t do that, because the cursed horns that she had once been so proud of. Every day the fear lurked in the back of her mind, that this would be the day that the power would make itself known once more, and that the maelstrom would eat her alive and Bold One along with her. Knowing that there was such a terrible force hidden within her, one she knew could rip Bold One apart with ease… Small One couldn’t risk it.

With a heavy heart, she pressed herself into Bold One’s mane, enjoying the warmth that had helped her sleep through so many war-torn nightmares and freezing desert nights, and softly declared that she would stay in the mountains, if for no other reason than to keep Bold One safe from the maelstrom of power. Bold One said nothing, and all through the night neither slept, choosing instead to groom and play and curl up together for what could be the last time. When the deceptively bright sun peeked above the horizon, Bold One licked Small One’s horns, and Small One responded in kind, a farewell that both knew could well be the last. When at last Bold One spread her wings to take off, it was with a solemn call, one that let Small One know that she would always be welcome wherever Bold One chose to make her home.

Small One stood, staring, as the blue figure steadily grew smaller, until at last she vanished and Small One was truly, completely alone for the first time since she was a hatchling fresh from the egg.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does Small One find the old fortress within three days? (Luck = 10)  
> Small One rolls a 4 (required 10). Failure.
> 
> Ahh, damn you dice. Ruining everything.
> 
> This one also had to be cut short for time reasons (probably because I wasted a little too much time on the scenery porn of the Arctic Ridge…), which is annoying because this chapter was intended to have Milestone #2 in it. That’ll have to be tomorrow instead.


	60. Frozen Shadow

Small One shivered, the chill wind suddenly getting to her. There was no warm presence to keep the cold at bay now. Shaking the soft ice from her wings, she rather reluctantly took off to resume the search. Through her melancholy, she reminded herself that if she didn’t find what she was looking for, then it would never truly be safe for her to seek out Bold One or Clever One again. With that thought in mind, she beat her wings and flew even as soft white ice began to fall from the sky in flurries, whipping around and getting in her eyes. In the blizzard, she could barely see the mountainside below. She just hoped it was a natural storm and not the result of a hardskin, because she wasn’t in the mood to deal with other dragons right now.

The blizzard didn’t hamper her too much, aside from limiting visibility, so she carried on flying until she found the ground beginning to level out. The soft ice still coated every available surface, but the mountains were becoming hills, and a few tough plants poked their way out of the white blanket. When Small One paused to rest, she took the opportunity to stare out across what little of the landscape she could see. The swirling ice and grey clouds made it impossible to see very far, but she thought she could make out a vast, low-lying tundra in the distance. She glanced around at the surrounding peaks. These high mountain crags didn’t seem to have any death-prey nests, but perhaps the tundra did. Deciding that she was rested enough, Small One took off, glancing around to check if she hadn’t left Bold One behind, before remembering the bitter morning.

With her heavy heart, the flight down from the mountains seemed to take much longer than was necessary. As she descended, the air grew ever so slightly warmer, though that wasn’t saying much, and the falling ice lightened up enough that she could properly see where she was going. The tundra was much flatter than the ridge, though it was still scored by rock formations with cave openings, and the ice here was harder. A herd of shaggy-furred grazers clumped together, using each other as shields from the blizzard, while a pack of small blue hunters with horns on their heads stalked them menacingly. Small One flew broad circles over the tundra, taking a small amount of pleasure in how creatures scattered away from her shadow. Some of the bigger wyverns and beasts didn’t seem to care about her. A blueish green monster with a huge head rolled around in a drift of soft ice without a care in the world, and Small One was reminded of the brown-shelled beasts that lived in the deserts and rolled in the mud.

She paused to land for a rest, and her blood froze when a beak-clacker erupted from the icy ground in a spray of glittering shards. It was smaller than the one that had caused her so much grief, and it was coated in ice rather than lava, but it was still a beak-clacker and she wanted nothing to do with it. The mere sight of it was enough to send Small One wheeling back into the air to find someplace else to rest. While she tried to pick out a nice secluded spot where she could fold her wings and not have to worry about something trying to start a fight with her, her sharp eyes spotted something odd in the distance, an oddly square heap, covered in white with bits of grey poking out. Small One felt her heart race in her chest, hoping against hope that it was what she thought it was.

Abandoning her search for a place to roost, Small One sped towards the suspicious structure, chirping out excitedly when she got close enough to see it clearly. It was a death-prey nest, and one which was surprisingly intact. Something had pulled the roof off, and some of the inner walls looked like they could collapse at any moment, but other than that it looked as though there could still be things living in it. Trembling with excitement, Small One landed on the outer wall and perched, peering into the inky shadows of the nest. Buckled suits of armour and snapped weapons littered the floor, scattered amidst the bones of its former inhabitants. Tattered bits of fabric lay frozen stiff all around, too cold to rot. A pile of charred wood and some sad bones was all that was left of the death-prey who had tried to hold onto life. From the looks of things, this nest was one of the few that hadn’t been lost to Twisted One. Some dragon or wyvern had simply pulled away the roof and let the cold do the rest.

Small One didn’t care too much about the death-prey, however. The sky-swimmer said there was a glitterscale in a death-prey nest in the icy lands, and this was the only such nest she’d seen so far. She swivelled her head around and carefully walked along the wall, searching for any hint of a dragon. The cloudy sky and swirling ice, while not as bad as up in the peaks, was making it difficult to see things, and every shadow looked like it could be a head, or a tail, or a wing. Actually, upon looking closer, that last shadow really  _ was  _ a wing. Chirping, Small One bounded down into the nest proper, her talons crunching on the coating of ice. Sure enough, nestled in the depths of the ruin and shadowed by a wall, there was a broad, black wing. The adult hadn’t flown away yet, after all!

Small One called out to the adult as she walked closer to it, but it didn’t respond, or even turn to look at her. Small One sniffed at the air, suddenly getting the sense that something was wrong. There were no sharp, musky smells in the air, no sense of presence that an adult should have exuded. Stepping closer and almost dreading what she would find, Small One was engulfed in shadow, finding herself right below the adult’s broad wing, chirping and crooning for all she was worth. In the dark and howling storm, the adult’s black scales blended in well, but Small One knew for sure that something was wrong when she looked at its unnaturally still side and saw that a perfectly straight rent had opened up in its belly, leaking some sort of yellowish material that looked like it might once have been soft, but was now frozen solid. Abandoning her calls and doing her best to ignore the mounting dread in her gut, Small One walked around to the adult’s front, craning her neck to look it in the eyes. Her heart sank and screamed at her that this was not real and that she was mistaken, but she knew there was no denying what she was seeing.

The adult glitterscale was dead, and had been for a very long time.

Its fierce orange eyes were gone, replaced by cheap, glossy imitations that stared blankly back at her without even a hint of life. Some of the dead adult’s scales had fallen off, and its hide had opened up in several places. Its sharp teeth shone, like they had been polished, and the sharp horns were almost pristine, with only a few points broken off. Its body was in very good condition aside from the openings in its hide, but the fact remained that it was  _ dead _ . Looking down to avoid the glossy gaze, Small One spotted something she hadn’t noticed before: a wooden platform with supports holding the dead dragon in place. At the sight of the platform, Small One felt her breath grow ragged, and her vision and thoughts narrowed, to where she didn’t notice that her head felt even colder than before and there were sparkles in her eyes.

The death-prey had killed this glitterscale, and rather than use its body for something, they had hollowed it out and turned it into a  _ trophy _ , something to put on display and jeer at when they needed to be reminded of their own cruelty. What little sympathy Small One had scraped together for the death-prey who died a slow death in the cold instantly evaporated, leaving nothing but blinding, incomprehensible rage in its wake. Rage at the death-prey, who had killed this dragon for pointless reasons. Rage at the sky-swimmer for leading her here with false hope. And rage at herself, for being so foolish as to believe she wasn’t alone, when everything said she was.

She reared back to roar her anger at the world, but all that emerged from her mouth was a wave of frigid ice. In an instant, rage turned to panic when the stinging, sparking feeling set in. Desperately, Small One fought to contain the maelstrom that she had allowed to escape with her carelessness, but no amount of straining or bashing her horns on a wall made it stop, until lighting rained down and then the heat built in her chest, and blasts of flame melted ice and charred stone. She braced herself, squeezing her eyes shut and doing her best to block out the  _ scream _ that ripped through her mind even as she desperately flailed her claws to shake the evil black energy off. She was suddenly struck by the thought that only Bold One could calm her down, but Bold One wasn’t here anymore because Small One had so foolishly chased an impossible dream.

When the cold came back, it was with a vengeance, and so Small One curled herself into a whimpering ball, and lost herself to the maelstrom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does Small One get a hold of herself? (Element = 3)  
> Small One rolls a 3 (required 17). Failure.
> 
> I can’t get mad at this one, it was really bad odds.


	61. Cold Hate

Small One had no idea how long she lay there, mouth open in a scream of her own, but at last the swirling, screeching vortex of power began to wane, until all was mercifully still and silent. When she dared to open her eyes, the falling ice had stopped, and the clouds had cleared to reveal the starry sky and its dancing flames. Small One whimpered. The sun had been out when the episode started, but it was long gone now. All around her, flames had melted the ice and scorched the stone beneath, leaving her lying in a sludgy black puddle of water that was rapidly refreezing. Long, thin patterns that looked like tree roots were burnt into the walls, and Small One could only assume they had come from her somehow. The desecrated glitterscale sported a few new slashes, and though she didn’t remember doing it, Small One was fairly sure she knew how those had happened.

Uncurling herself, Small One shivered and winced. Her legs felt stiff, like they had begun to freeze, and the chill night air bit into her scales freely. When she stood up, a stabbing headache nearly sent her back down to the ground. A low moan escaped from her throat as she opened her tired wings and shook the ice crystals free. Coiling her muscles, she made to leave this wretched, cursed place, but without warm winds to lift her, her overworked, frozen wings simply couldn’t get her up in the air. Each beat sent spikes of pain down her wingarms, until at last she was forced to give up and angrily pace the abandoned nest. She put as much distance as she could between herself and the trophy dragon as possible. The nest was cold and empty, but the tundra beyond was colder and emptier, and so she chose, with no small amount of disgust, to wait for dawn in the ruins.

She was in no mood to sleep, and doubted she could even if she wanted to—without Bold One’s warm and soothing presence, this place was much too cold for her to find any comfort. Instead, she wandered around the nest, angrily slashing at fallen flags and pulling suits of armour apart. Frozen bones snapped beneath her feet with each step she took, a sound which only added fuel to the fire of hate that was steadily growing in her chest. She thought she hated the death-prey before, but that was just a hatchling’s indignation compared to what she felt now. They had captured her and other dragons, they had tortured and enslaved them, but now she realised they had done so much worse than that. They had left her  _ alone _ , truly and completely alone in the world. There was no spark of hope in her heart now. She had searched and searched, and found nothing but a long-dead corpse propped up on display. It wasn’t Furious One; it lacked the distinctive scar. But he was probably dead too. Twisted One had killed him, along with whatever else got in his way. The death-prey were to blame for that atrocity as well. Twisted One never would have appeared if they hadn’t decided they needed to be above the rest of life.

Small One’s enraged wanderings carried her to a room of the nest filled with soft sleeping spots. Upon one of the sleeping spots, a pair of death-prey corpses lay intertwined, preserved by the cold and left mostly untouched by scavengers. From the way they were holding each other, Small One assumed they had been mates in life. One final embrace to shield each other from the cold. At the sight of them, Small One snarled.  _ She  _ would never have a mate of her own, because the death-prey in their selfish conquest had left her hopelessly alone, to wander the world without any idea as to how she should act, what territory she should claim, and how to manipulate the damnable power within her horns. With a furious shriek, she raised a claw and swiped at the dead mates, with enough force to pry them apart and send one flying across the room, breaking its stiff arm in the process. Still snarling, she strode up to the frozen body on the ground and stomped on its rib cage as hard as she could, sneering in delight at the sickening crunch. Clamping her jaws around the body’s head, she bit down as hard as she could, ignoring the cold on her teeth, until she felt the whole thing shatter. She tossed the mangled corpse aside with a snort, disliking how there was no warm blood flowing.

Eviscerating the other corpse for good measure, Small One only wished she was punishing the real thing. The dead mates didn’t deserve to be together in death, and so she had remedied that, but she would have preferred to rain death down upon those who had wronged her while they were still alive to scream. She huffed, her breath coming out as a puff of fog. Twisted One had stolen the chance for revenge from beneath the dragons’ noses, when he went around destroying all the death-prey he found. There was no way for Small One to get justice now, because the offenders were already long-dead, burnt to ash or melted into the black beast’s scales. 

She swiped at the ground, trailing claw marks in the ice. She wanted to leave this accursed place and never return, but where would she go? There was the option of flying south, to find Bold One or Clever One, but she still hadn’t been taught to control her elements, and now, knew she never would. Some deep part of her knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she would lose control again and that there would come a day when her friends were caught in the blast zone. She shuddered, not wanting to imagine what it would look like. No, she had to stay far away until she figured it out for herself. But that left her now without a goal in her wandering. She knew she was leaving this gods-forsaken icefield as soon as the sun was up, but now that she knew searching was pointless, there was no destination waiting for her. She could wander aimlessly in the recovering world, but the thought of idling without companions didn’t appeal to her at all.

Briefly, the idea to go find Twisted One flitted across her mind, before the thought was immediately bitten back. But Small One did have to admit the idea held some allure. After all, he was the one who had stolen her chance for revenge, and he was the one who had probably killed the last other glitterscale she’d seen. If there was anyone alive who deserved her ire, it was him. But she knew that trying to track him down and kill him would be a fool’s errand. For one, he seemed to go only where he felt his murderous services were needed, and she hadn’t heard any whispers of him since the war ended. And perhaps more importantly, Small One held no illusions about being able to take him in in a fight. He had singlehandedly destroyed the death-prey and left them clinging to life in tiny hovels. In one year, he accomplished what a whole world’s worth of dragons couldn’t, and he did it all by himself. Small One knew that if she challenged him, he would simply laugh in her face before ripping her apart. No, best to leave him alone.

That left her stewing in rage, with nothing to take it out on. The ones responsible for her kind’s extinction were gone, and no amount of screeching or tearing apart their corpses would fix that. The burning fury in her chest had begun to wear itself out, leaving only cold embers and a dull hollowness in its wake. It was then that a thought struck Small One. Twisted One had destroyed most of the death-prey, but he didn’t get them all. There were the ones in the desert who worshiped her, and the ones in the foothills who feared her, and probably others besides. At least some of those death-prey were survivors of the war, and that meant they were guilty. When dawn came and Small One winged her way back up into the mountains, there was a sneer on her face and cold hate in her heart.

She would finish what Twisted One started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No rolls tonight. Well, no rolls you can see. I actually did something I haven’t done before and did a few ‘hidden rolls’ that I’m not going to show you until they become more relevant. I can’t divulge all my secrets, now can I?
> 
> This whole ‘searching for others’ bit actually went on longer than I meant it to, but I guess that’s just my desire for reasonable pacing and my love of pretty scenery kicking in. We’ve passed milestone #2, all aboard for the train to station #3!


	62. Village Rumble

When Small One finally crossed the threshold from the icy mountains to the grassy foothills, and the lowlands beyond, it was with relief. If she never returned to the frigid pit, it would be too soon. Besides, if she wanted to be cold all she had to do was lose control of herself. The grim thought came unbidden, but she gave a harsh, mirthless chuff at it anyway. Best for her to start coming to peace with it now, rather than later. As she soared out over the flatlands, she paused to dive upon a small, horned creature that pranced around without a care in the world. It tried its best to gore her with its pronged antlers, but it only took minimal effort for her to spill its guts across the ground and dig in. With belly filled, the rest of Small One’s journey went much smoother.

She only knew of two death-prey nests for certain. There was the fearful nest in the foothills, and there was the reverent nest in the desert. As she flew idly towards the south, she thought about which nest to begin with. The desert death-prey made for good entertainment, and they brought her free prey. It wouldn’t make much sense to kill them first, when there was still plenty of exploiting to be done. Besides, the desert was a longer flight than the foothills. With mind made up, Small One flew towards where she remembered the foothills being. It was no short flight, though prey and water were plentiful along the way, and she was no longer in a rush. She paused for a rest in the misty mountains, noting that the sky-swimmer was gone. A shame. She would have liked to have done… something to it as retribution for giving her false hope.

When at last she reached the recovering woodland and the surrounding foothills, it didn’t take her long to spot the messy, flimsy-looking death-prey nest. The nests hadn’t gotten any more sophisticated since she’d last seen them, though there were more of them now. They were still cobbled together from rotting wood and mismatched stones, barely held together with mud and tree sap. The death-prey themselves looked a bit tougher, however. Where before their weapons had been little more than pointed stones, they seemed to have rediscovered metal, if the telltale glint was anything to go by. As Small One circled, heads turned her way, and she was delighted to see the first hints of fear playing across their faces. They would pay for the crimes of the past.

First, however, she wanted to make herself known. Make it very clear to them that they had no hope of survival. She dove down into the midst of the nests like a black thunderbolt, folding her wings and raising her head. She sauntered along imperiously, scowling down at any death-prey she saw. To her delight, they almost immediately began cringing in fear, ducking into their nests or simply pressing themselves up against walls. She flexed her talons menacingly as she paused next to an old male and a hatchling who couldn’t get away in time, lowering her head to stare them both in the eyes. The elder had a look of fearful recognition in his face. That was good. Let him remember what his kind had done before, and realise that he would now pay for it. The hatchling cried out in blind terror, shrieking and burying its face into the elder’s chest. Small One snorted. The thing was too small to understand its own evil. It didn’t know why she was here, only that she was terrifying and intended to kill it.

Just as she opened her mouth to snap at the elder and the hatchling, something sharp bit into her tail. The metal blade was surprisingly strong, and Small One yelped as it cleaved her scales and the flesh beneath. Snarling, she turned her head to glare at the one who had attacked her, a younger male wielding a big, heavy claw. He yanked his bloodied weapon from her tail, garbling fiercely at her. All she understood was that old sound of  _ Alatreon _ . Small One hissed and reared up into a screeching roar, sending a few death-prey to the ground with hands clamped over their ears. Swift as she could, she charged down the one who had dared to strike her, sending him flying with blood flowing from small wounds on his chest. For a moment, none of the death-prey dared to move, simply staring at the furious dragon who threatened them. Then all at once, the spell was broken and a dozen death-prey charged Small One, garbling at the tops of their voices.

For a moment, Small One panicked. She hadn’t been expecting resistance. That momentary hesitation cost her, as various weapons impacted her from different angles. Some bounced harmlessly off of her scales, but others left shallow cuts that stung. With a hiss, Small One flared her wings out and knocked a few of her attackers away, raising a claw and swiping away another. One with a blunt, inelegant lump of metal on a stick suddenly landed a vicious uppercut on her lower jaw, knocking her teeth together and making her head spin. The metallic taste of blood leaked into her mouth, and she was sure she got some on the ground when she lashed out to snap at her attacker. Through the disorientation, she managed to figure out that the blood was coming from her tongue, which she’d accidentally pierced with her own sharp teeth. Before she had time to ponder that, another strong blow to her tail made her flinch.

The first death-prey had gotten back up and resumed hacking away at her tail like he wanted to sever it. Narrowly avoiding another strike from the blunt weapon, she lashed her tail and knocked the tail-cutter away. Just then, a hail of sharp sticks bounced across her snout. The projectiles weren’t strong enough to pierce her scales, but they had come dangerously close to her eyes, and she didn’t like that. She swung her gaze around and spotted a death-prey with a stick launcher, much too far away for her to reach. She flailed her wings and claws in an effort to scatter the ones who were still swarming her, but as she turned to charge at the ranged attacker, the one with the blunt weapon caught her again, metal scraping against horns. Her whole world exploded into a hazy blur of pain, and her ears wouldn’t stop ringing. Vaguely, she thought she might have been on the ground, and she could feel the impacts of many weapons hitting her scales.

When the world had mostly stopped spinning, Small One got back to her feet, frightening some of the death-prey who’d gotten up close to her claws and teeth. She hissed as another volley of projectiles found their mark on her chest. This was a failed attempt. Better to flee now and return for vengeance later. With another screaming roar, Small One took off, knocking a few death-prey to the fortune with the pressure from her wings. As she flew off, she found herself seething with rage. They’d gotten the better of her this time, but she would find a better way to kill them. She had to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Which settlement does Small One target? (1 = foothills, 2 = desert)  
> Small One rolls a 1. Foothills.
> 
> Are the death-prey unarmed? (Luck = 10)  
> Small One rolls a 4 (required 10). Failure.
> 
> Does Small One kill them? (Strength = 9)  
> Small One rolls a 1 (required 11). Critical Failure.
> 
> Been a while since we’ve had a critical failure. We picked a really bad time for it.
> 
> Super short one tonight, but I genuinely didn’t have time to keep going. I’ve got an assignment to do. And one to do tomorrow. And another one to do after that… University, amirite? At the very least, after that it’s pretty much a straight shot from here to summer.


	63. Village Rematch

Small One spent quite a while angrily fuming, hanging around the foothills. She hunted her prey with just a bit more vigour than usual, leaving deeper gouges in her prey’s hide than was probably necessary. All the while she was thinking of ways to slaughter the little death-prey community. Last time they had surprised her, but she wasn’t going to let that happen this time. She’d been keeping herself hidden from them, hoping they would presume her to have flown away. The wounds they’d inflicted on her hadn’t been too severe. Their weapons weren’t sharp enough to cut deep into her scales, and so she felt fairly confident that if she could avoid being swarmed again, she could shatter them with ease. She just had to find a means of surprising them first. So while she angrily prowled the hills and woodland, she mulled it over in her mind until at last she hit on a plan that seemed solid.

She had to wait for the right kind of day, but she didn’t have to wait long to get just what she was looking for: a clear, sunny day with a few scattered clouds. Making sure she was hidden from the death-prey’s view, Small One took off into the sky, flying as high as she could using the thermals to boost herself. Up in the air, the little hovels were like tiny stones, and the death-prey like bugs. But more importantly, her own shadow was small and distant, and any death-prey who glanced up and saw her would mistake her for a feathered thing or some wyvern. It took a bit of doing, but eventually she managed to position herself at what she hoped was the right angle relative to the death-prey nest and the sun. Looking down, none of them seemed to have noticed her, if the way they were all still milling around was anything to go by. She leered to herself. Perfect. Now she just had to wait for the perfect moment to strike.

She hovered until a fairly large group of death-prey clumped together near the nest’s center, and decided that was her cue to strike. Forgoing her usual screeching roar, she tucked her wings into a blisteringly fast dive, pointed squarely at the gathering of death-prey in the middle. To her delight, her idea had worked: she was flying directly out of the sun, and none of them noticed her until she was almost on top of them. At the last second, one of them looked up with eyes wide and mouth open to shout, but Small One slammed into it before it had the chance, slicing at its gut with her claws and knocking it to the ground with blood pouring from its wounds. Her sudden impact had knocked several other death-prey to the ground as well, and before they could react she had clamped her jaws on the neck of one and tossed it aside, simultaneously swiping at another with a talon. Several bystanders were looking on, frozen in fear, but a few were inching towards their nests or slowly reaching for weapons. 

Small One huffed as she snapped at the arm of a death-prey who thought it was being clever by sneakily reaching for a small claw. She had already killed or crippled half a dozen hunters. She was doing pretty well, by her measure. One onlooker found its courage and rushed her with a war-cry and a hand at its weapon. Small One recognised it as the one who had hit her in the head on the last attempt. Best to nip that one in the bud. She met its charge with one of her own, jabbing her horns into its chest. Idly, she wished she were bigger so she could lift it up on her head and throw it like Furious One did, but she settled for simply shoving as hard as she could. The death-prey was flung back, shaken but largely unharmed. Small One made note that she’d have to keep an eye on it. Instinctively, she lashed her tail, and chuffed to herself when she impacted a startled hunter. She found it amusing how the death-prey didn’t seem to expect her to have wised up to their tricks. If they thought her less intelligent than she really was, that just made things all the easier.

She rounded on the one who had tried to sneak up behind her, not at all surprised to discover it was the same male from before. He still seemed to be fixated on her tail, but she wasn’t going to let him carry on. She grabbed his arm between her jaws and pinned him with her talons, enjoying the taste of the hot blood that spilled into her mouth. The death-prey looked at her with fear in his eyes, as if he had finally realised the magnitude of what was happening. Still holding his arm in her mouth, Small One flashed him a cruel grin, before violently jerking her head back. The death-prey screamed, and Small One tossed him aside to clutch at his now-useless arm. She’d finish him later, but he could suffer where he was for now. The carnage all around her put a grim sneer on her face. Several other death-prey had picked up their weapons, and the one with the projectile launcher had set its sights on Small One. She snarled, keeping them at bay for the briefest of moments. Running in to tear them apart with her claws was an option, yes, but that required getting up close and had the risk of causing her to be swarmed.

In the back of her mind, the traitorous whisper sounded. All she had had to do was unleash the maelstrom on her attackers, and they would be utterly annihilated before they even had the chance to realise they were dead. In her mind, Small One fought against the idea. So far, the maelstrom had brought nothing but pain and misery every time she’d let it run wild. Without someone to teach her how to use it, trying to make use of it would inevitably make the situation worse. But… there was no one who could teach her how to use her power, not anymore. The death-prey had made sure of that. She could hide from it her whole life, or she could swallow her fear and learn what to do for herself. A death-prey took a step forward with weapon raised. Small One hissed. No time left to ponder this, she just had to do it or not do it.

Closing her eyes and bracing herself, Small One reached into her very essence and ever so slightly tugged at the wellspring of power. The effect was immediate. At once, she gritted her teeth against the familiar cold. She could hear the death-prey garbling uncertainly to one another, and she forced her eyes open. The loathsome white sparkles were already gathered around her face. The cold was welling up in her horns and throat alike, but she forced herself to keep her thoughts clear. Yes, it was uncomfortable, and yes, it would hurt afterwards, but  _ right now _ she needed to actually do something with herself, and so she snapped her head forward and sprayed a volley of sharpened ice crystals straight into the assembled death-prey. One of them had been speared in the chest, staring down at its own impaled body like it wasn’t quite sure what had happened. The rest alternated between gaping and trying to flee, having finally realised that the dragon they faced could do more than just bite and slash.

Small One clamped down on the panic that threatened to rise when the cold faded and replaced itself with the prickling, sparking sensation. Instead, she tried to think back to when Furious One had fought. He had taken to the air when he summoned lightning. Perhaps that made it easier to manage? Testing that theory, she fought through the discomfort to bound into the air and hover above the crowd of death-prey. When she couldn’t take the jolt anymore, she let the charge go, blasting the area below her with a stream of thunderbolts. The smell of seared flesh reached her nose, and scanning the crowd, she was pleased to see that a few had dropped with hands and arms burnt. She leered. Their metal weapons had betrayed them. When the heat started to well in her chest, her intense concentration momentarily wavered, forcing her to land just to stop herself from crashing. Still, she managed to keep enough of a grip on herself to carefully aim the fireballs, both at fleeing death-prey and at their nests. The death-prey screamed as the flames licked at their armour, while a pair of juveniles rushed out from a burning nest.

Small One early lost it when the  _ scream  _ started. She had no idea how Furious One had made this all look so easy. Had he been focusing as intensely as she had to? Nevertheless, the force of the scream was so intense that she couldn’t focus on what she was slashing at, just that the dark energy needed to clear from her claws before anything else. She was fairly sure she hit a death-prey or two in her wide, mad swinging, and the sound of their terrified, broken screeches of pain brought grim satisfaction to her. Hopefully her claws had inflicted the scream on them too. She managed to keep herself steadier than she had ever imagined doing, even as the maelstrom cycled back to the cold and the jolt, which seemed to hurt less when she took to the air.

Eventually, slowly, the surge faded away, and Small One was rather pleased, and surprised, to discover that she was  _ not  _ lying on the ground in a whimpering ball. The same couldn’t be said for the death-prey, whose bodies lay singed and frozen all around. Even as the inevitable post-surge headache began to set in, she chirped to herself. Perhaps the maelstrom was good for something after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does Small One get the drop on the villagers? (Luck = 10)  
> Small One rolls a 12 (required 10). Success.
> 
> Does Small One kill them? (Strength = 9)  
> Element of surprise affects Small One’s roll (+3)  
> Small One rolls a 19 + 3 = 22 (required 11). Success.
> 
> Does Small One avoid the temptation? (Intelligence = 12)  
> Small One rolls a 5 (required 8). Failure.
> 
> Is Small One able to keep control? (Element = 3)  
> Small One rolls a 20 (required 17). Critical Success.
> 
> Small One’s stats have increased (Element 3—5)
> 
> Hot damn, a crit fail and a crit success within a chapter of each other. That’s pretty neat.


	64. Twisted Warnings

Small One lost track of the time she spent in her pursuit of revenge, but it must have been more than a year. She soared across the land, listening to the whispers of dragons and destroying death-prey nests whenever she happened upon them. Sometimes they put up some sort of resistance. Most of them just died. When there were too many weapons for comfort, Small One would tentatively use her power. Sometimes she kept a hold of herself long enough to destroy them all. Other times she thrashed about in agonised confusion, killing her foes by pure luck. Though her skill at keeping control was improving with time, she didn’t feel it was safe yet to go seek out Bold One or Clever One. But perhaps someday.

One warm, quiet morning in a low valley, following a successful raid on a nearby nest, Small One lay dozing, not quite ready to get moving yet. The sun was irritating her eyes, and the rough scales scraping against her back weren’t helping, though they were nice and warm. Small One’s thoughts abruptly stopped. Scales? She snapped her eyes open, and found herself staring into a golden, crystal eye, with cruel amusement writ in the slitted pupil. At once the temperature seemed to drop and a shudder ran down the length of Small One’s spine. She wanted to hiss, to growl, to do anything to threaten the interloper, but her voice was caught in her throat. A deep, evil laugh rolled through her mind as Twisted One lifted his head. His whiplike tail was coiled around Small One’s legs, and his great wing was draped over her back. His embrace, which would have been comforting had it been literally any other creature, left Small One prickling all over.

**You’re finally awake, I see. I almost woke you up by biting you, but I probably would have pulled your head off. You don’t use it for very much, I know, but it seems like something you would have been upset at losing.**

Small One finally found her voice, hissing a threat at the black beast. Internally, she was screaming at herself that this was a stupid idea and she shouldn’t antagonise him, but he had snuck up on her while she was sleeping and that had rattled her too hard for rational thought. A sharp growl and bared teeth were her warning to him, telling him to leave or suffer the consequences.

**Oh, no, not the wrath of the dreaded** **_Small One_ ** **. Whatever shall I do? You may as well end my suffering now.**

Twisted One rolled onto his back and bared his throat in a mocking gesture of submission. Small One had a sneaking suspicion that if she went for it, he would snap her in half. Or perhaps he would laugh in her face even as she ripped his throat out, and he would stand up with blood dripping from his wound and somehow be fine. And  _ then  _ he would snap her in half.

**You, my dear, have been making something of a name for yourself recently. I’m not the only black dragon featuring in the humans’ nightmares anymore, and I don’t think I like that.**

Suddenly, Twisted One looked Small One right in the eyes, smouldering hatred and contempt burning in his unnatural,  _ wrong _ eyes. Small One found her lungs tightening against the intensity of his gaze, a heavy knot of anxiety settling in her stomach. Briefly, she thought about explaining her actions to him, but she knew there would be no point. There was nothing in the crystalline orbs that suggested mercy, or compassion. Twisted One hated everything in equal measure, as though life itself offended him. She would find no sympathy with him.

**See, I normally wouldn’t care if a few random humans died. Circle of life, and all that. But you don’t seem to have gotten the memo about stopping at ‘a few’. I’m the only one allowed to visit genocide on people, you see.**

Twisted One suddenly shoved his head forward, until he was snout-to-snout with Small One. She could feel his hot breath on her scales, smell the despair lingering from whatever he had last killed, see every last line and detail in his stony eyes. She tried to take a step back, but his long tail coiled itself around her hindlegs and held her in place. Spreading his wings menacingly, Twisted One pulled his head back and stood up to his full height. Even though he was smaller than Fearless One, smaller even than Furious One, he looked in that moment like the largest, most dangerous creature in all the world. Small One noticed, with no small amount of horror, the faintest, most barely-visible of scars on his chest. Right where his heart was. She shuddered, terrified anew. A living corpse could not hope to be as  _ wrong  _ and  _ other  _ as Twisted One, if he could live with his heart pulled out.

**You’re stealing my thunder, my dear. I’ve been itching to have an excuse to kill something, so by all means. Go ahead if you’d like to die.**

Small One begrudgingly weighed her options. She could keep giving the death-prey what they deserved, and be subject to Twisted One’s punishment. Or she could abandon her pursuit, and live out her days stewing in bitterness, but alive. She gave an annoyed snap of her jaws. There was no real choice in the matter. Her life was more important than revenge.

**Aww, you’re** **_not_ ** **giving me an excuse to play with you? But I had so many fun things planned. I thought we had something special here, my dear.**

Small One did not like how Twisted One’s tone changed from one moment to the next. Where before he had sounded like the unstoppable force of nature he really was, he now sounded like a whiny hatchling being denied its wishes. The sudden shift unnerved her almost as much as everything else about him. How could she know what he was thinking, what his intentions were, if he could jump between playful and threatening in a heartbeat?

**Hmph, so judgemental. You’re boring, and while watching you stare at me with wide eyes was amusing at first, I’d rather go play with something which will scream for me.**

Twisted One’s tail uncurled itself from Small One’s legs, freeing her and giving her the chance to flee. Twisted One spread his wings and took off, his short legs hanging awkwardly in the air beneath him and tail swaying from side to side. Once again, Small One was struck by how gangly and out-of-proportion he was. It was a comical appearance that masked the pure evil that rolled off of him in waves. He was ascending, leaving Small One behind, but then a thought occurred to Small One. She tried to ignore it, at first, knowing full well that Twisted One would not appreciate being called back. But before she could stop herself, she had already chirped up at the departing beast, a single, clear question ringing out.

Twisted One halted at once, hanging in the air and looking down at Small One with annoyance. When no voice rolled through her mind, Small One went against her better judgment and asked again. The question was a simple one, but Small One was almost afraid of the answer she would get. Still, she had to know, and she would never get a better opportunity than this to find out if Twisted One truly had killed Furious One. When the voice came, Small One was ready to pick out the useful information from between the taunts and insults.

**Did I kill who now?**

Small One blinked. That hadn’t been the answer she was expecting. Wondering what sort of game Twisted One was playing now, Small One described Furious One for him, speaking of his proud posture and the distinctive bite scar on his chest.

**I’ve slaughtered millions. Do you really think I bother to remember each and every one of my playmates?**

Small One flinched back at the force of his voice, but pressed on, refining her description even further. She mentioned how Furious One had lead a sizeable flock of dragons during the war, and how he’d lead the march on the death-prey stronghold.

**Oh, him. I do have a vague recollection of someone like that, yes.**

Small One kept up a faint hope, then asked her original question again. If Twisted One had killed Furious One, then she would obviously be upset, but in some ways, it would be better than not knowing.

**Maybe I killed him, maybe I didn’t. I don’t pay attention to most of my victims. I might have killed him… or I might have just scared him so badly he curled up in a hole somewhere and died all on his own. Or maybe he’s still alive, and he’s just avoiding you because you offend him somehow. That’s always an option.**

Small One huffed, and opened her mouth to ask for more details, but the voice cut her off.

**You’ve wasted enough of my time. Ask me something else and I’m liable to fly back down there and pull your wings off. Don’t test me.**

Staring up at the contempt and annoyance on Twisted One’s face, Small One decided that testing him definitely wouldn’t be worth it. Instead, she watched as the black beast soared up and away, swiftly vanishing into a cloudbank and leaving Small One alone with nothing but more questions and a lingering sense of dread.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does Small One think better of calling Twisted One back? (Intelligence = 12)  
> Small One rolls a 2 (required 8). Failure.
> 
> Does Twisted One not punish her for it? (Luck = 10)  
> Small One rolls a 14 (required 10). Success.
> 
> Ah, I knew it was only a matter of time before university forced me to skip a day. Yesterday’s chapter was missed because I was too preoccupied with writing up a long assignment. By the time I was done it was already 2AM and I was way too tired to even think about trying to make up for it. Ah well. If I only miss two days throughout this whole thing I’ll be happy.
> 
> Tonight we had another appearance by probably my favourite character to write. I’ve always imagined Fatalis as this sort of malicious, flippant entity that hates everything, but who is also a little bit of a narcissist and likes to show off and be the undisputed ‘best’. Don’t ask me why I find that sort of character fun to write for, though, because I couldn’t tell you.


	65. Nomad’s Life

In light of Twisted One’s telling off, Small One was not a happy dragon, and wouldn’t be for a very long time. How could she be? She was the last of her kind known, and she carried with her all the unpredictable forces of nature, with no one to teach her about them but herself. And the black beast had told her in no uncertain terms that she was not to seek revenge on the death-prey, leaving her without a convenient target to vent her frustrations on. For a while, she’d made a target of the local prey, decimating them en masse with claws and fangs, forcing herself to eat them afterwards so Twisted One wouldn’t come after her. Then she’d run out of local prey, and had to move on. So she’d flown to an upland region, and hunted down most of what she found there. It caused her no end of annoyance when the dimwitted prey finally figured out that her shadow meant oncoming death, and begun hiding themselves in crevices where she couldn’t chase them.

So she’d moved on to wyverns, then, happily killing anything that happened to be smaller than her. Wyverns fought back, and though the wounds they inflicted left marks on Small One’s scales, she found herself enjoying the battles. The pain of claws raking into her scales gave her a rush like nothing else. Most wyverns and beasts were territorial, too, giving her the perfect excuse to challenge them. Unfortunately, the wyverns copped on before long, realising that picking a fight with a bitter dragon would end in death. They scattered at her approach and left vast swathes of land barren and silent. When that happened, Small One reasoned that the best way to find something new to fight would be to leave. And so she did, flying until she found herself by the vast and unknowable sea, beyond which a paradise supposedly lay.

Ocean beasts of all shapes and sizes lurked in the depths, and Small One found them to be the most frustrating of all. The ocean was deep, and dark, with clawing currents that could pull down even the mightiest of dragons. But the beasts of the sea revelled in it, diving and twirling with an ease that Small One could never hope to achieve. When she swooped down on them, they simply dove out of her grasp, into the dark embrace of the depths they called home. Catching sea monsters became a game of shadows, where even a slightly wrong angle was the difference between eating and going hungry. Occasionally, she would find something lounging on the sand past the waves, and then catching them was easy. But eventually even the ocean stopped being entertaining enough for Small One, when everything fled for weeks after catching sight of her even once. So she left again.

Small One completely lost track of the time as she proceeded in this fashion. She would fly across the world until she spotted a place that looked promising. Then she would amuse herself by tormenting the monsters that called it home, hunting and fighting until the locals learned to flee from her and there was nothing left to fight. When that happened, she moved on, to a new place, and the cycle began anew. As she travelled around the land, seemingly touching down everywhere from coast to coast, she noticed the land slowly but surely healing from the scars of war. Former swamps were refilled with water. Lush grass regrew across scorched savannahs. Forests sprang up and swallowed old ruins, herds of prey became more abundant, and the air came alive with wyverns and the ground shook with the footsteps of beasts. After a while, it was almost possible to forget that there had ever been a war in the first place. Perhaps the only hints of what had happened were the crumbling ruins that still poked out here and there, the lonely tower that stood tall and proud, and the barren, desolate, lifeless wasteland that surrounded the former death-prey stronghold.

Days became weeks, became years, became decades, until more than a full century and a half had passed. It occurred to Small One, one day while she rubbed her itching scales on a rock, that her name no longer suited her. Once she had been a small, shaky hatchling, with a squeaky voice and limbs that barely worked. No more of that. She imagined there was not a creature who could look upon her and not be in awe. Every inch of her brimmed with muscle, her backwards-pointing scales bristling sharp enough to cut anything that tried to attack her into shreds. Her frame was tall and lithe, from the tip of her tail all the way up to the huge, jagged horns she carried. She’d gotten better at controlling the power that flowed from them, but she still slipped frequently even after years of practice. She supposed she’d get it someday. She had no other glitterscales to measure up against, and her memories of the war seemed distant and hazy, but she knew that she still wasn’t as big as Furious One had been. Still, she looked an intimidating sight for anything that saw her striding up with murder in her eyes. At this point, there was nothing small about her, but she found herself rather unconcerned about that. She was Small One, had always been Small One, and always would be Small One long after the name stopped fitting.

Despite her best efforts to give different locales a break, other creatures inevitably started to get wary of her as soon as she appeared, until there came a point when everything would simply abandon a place as soon as something smelled her coming. Only the other dragons she saw managed to hold their ground, but they were few and far between, and Small One didn’t like the idea of starting a fight with someone she might have once battled alongside. She recognised a few faces in her travels, even through the inevitable fog of old memories. A silverscale who’d always been particularly quick at scouting during the war. The sky-swimmer who’d told her about the dead dragon in the ice. Sad One, the hardskin whose mate had had his skin pulled off by a living corpse. She even passed Fearless One marching through the mountains at her own glacial pace.

But the greatest surprise—and joy—came when she wandered into a young forest and found herself face-to-face with a familiar, short-horned clearskin. She saw the panic flash briefly across his mismatched eyes before they softened into recognition, and he flicked his tongue out with a comforting, familiar chirp. Small One was surprised at how much shorter Clever One was than her, now. There had been a time when he’d been more than twice her size, and he’d always been a little taller than her even after she stopped being so tiny. But now she was looking down on him, and doing her best not to look so imperious. She returned his chirp with a croon of her own, lowering her head to nuzzle him. Her presence had scared away everything else in the area, so they had the woods to themselves. Clever One lead her through the choking vines and between the trees, showing her every inch of the place he had claimed as his own. Small One burned it into her memory. This was where Clever One had made his home.

Over the years, Small One often stopped by Clever One’s forest as it grew outwards, until it eventually connected with another woodland to form one massive tangle of nigh-impenetrable vegetation. Squeezing her way through the trees was a tough challenge, but it was worth it to come and see her friend. He didn’t manage to keep his monopoly on the territory. Other clearskins flocked to the area, and more than once Small One had flown in only to find him embroiled in a territorial dispute with some other dragon. Her presence often seemed to tip the scales in his favour, something which she never saw him complain about. As much as she would have liked to simply stay with him permanently, she was just too big for the forest. She didn’t fit into half of the places Clever One tried to show her, at least not without knocking over some trees. She would have liked to ask him to come with her on her journeys, like old times, but she knew he would refuse. He had found his place in this dense forest where bugs flew in clouds so thick as to block out the sun, and where there were plenty of places for him to hide.

It took many years before Small One worked up the courage to begin investigating volcanoes. She was, at that point, fairly confident she could at least handle a raging firemane, or kill a beak-clacker, but that didn’t stop her from hesitating. But she needed to know, needed to see if Bold One, who had kept her warm on long nights and who had comforted her in her worst moments, was still alive, and if her offer of companionship was still true even after the passage of time. Small One poked her head into every vaguely volcanic region she could find. Some of the volcano creatures were so tough they didn’t bother to flee from her, which made for entertaining fights. But all the volcanoes held were angry firemanes and huge, spiky black wyverns with massive tusks that made Small One feel like she was facing a dragon.

Eventually, she came to one particular peak, on a small island made up of nothing but active volcanoes and a burgeoning forest around their bases. As soon as she made her way into the cavernous depths and spied that familiar one-eyed gaze, she knew Bold One had meant what she said on that cold morning. The pair of friends nuzzled and groomed, and swapped stories, and rolled around and played like they were hatchlings again. It was hard for Small One not to appreciate the changes to Bold One’s stature over the years. She was tall and slender, with a full mane, impressive horns, and a regal posture. Small One was rather surprised to discover that not only was Bold One doing amazingly well for herself in the hunting department, she had managed to chase away her home’s previous ruler, as well as the many challengers who wanted her territory for themselves. She’d even fought off one of the spiky dragon-wyverns. Just the same as with Clever One, Small One took note of where her friend lived, and never hesitated to drop by and enjoy Bold One’s company. And yet, when Bold One asked her if she wanted to stay, Small One refused. 

She had grown accustomed to the nomad’s life, and found it to her liking. Why stay in one place when she could fly around the ever-changing world, and watch as saplings became rainforests and holes filled with water to form lakes? It was just a shame she wasn’t allowed to remove the one blight on the world: the rapidly recovering death-prey. They stained the world with their nests, which grew from simple wooden hovels to clusters of things which more closely resembled their old forts. Small One wanted nothing more than to shatter them all, but Twisted One’s warning never left her mind. She just needed an excuse, but that wasn’t something she was finding. So she carried on, living life as usual, just waiting for the next surprise to find her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hidden roll from chapter 61: Is Clever One still alive? (Luck = 10)  
> Clever One rolls a 13 (required 10). Success.
> 
> Hidden roll from chapter 61: Is Bold One still alive? (Luck = 10)  
> Bold One rolls a 20 (required 10). Critical success.
> 
> Small One’s stats have increased:  
> 6 years old — 163 years old  
> Strength: 9 — 12  
> Finesse: 9 — 12  
> Element: 5 — 7  
> Intelligence: 12 — 13  
> Luck: 10 = 10
> 
> Figuring out how to show a critical success for ‘are you alive?’ was interesting. Like, is Bold One just very, very alive? Extremely alive. Maximum aliveness. Made for a fascinating prompt, I can tell you that much.
> 
> I think I must have tried to start this chapter about seven different ways before I finally settled. The idea of doing such a massive timeskip didn’t sit well with me at all, but I think there would just have been more of the same if I hadn’t, and I think this flows much better. In the end, this wound up being a kind of summary chapter, because there just wasn’t time to advance the plot tonight. We’re ready for the next and final section of this ‘adolescence’ arc, which in turn will take us to the last arc of the story.


	66. Black Grass

Small One woke up, and knew something was wrong. She looked around, but the cavern she slept in was quiet and still. She sniffed at the air, and found nothing except the unpleasant smell of yesterday’s prey. The air wasn’t making her scales crawl, so Twisted One probably wasn’t around. But something was wrong all the same, and it made her feel uneasy. She stood up and shifted her weight around, furtively glancing around the cave. The dripping, crystal walls looked completely normal. There was nothing immediately obvious that could be causing this unease, but Small One had long since learned to trust her own instincts, and so she trotted out of the cave and into the open air of the swamp she was currently resting at. The sky was as grey and bleak as ever, and purple puddles hissed and bubbled angrily, but that was nothing new for this part of the world. At first she’d thought they were a remnant of the war, but years upon years of passing through this area had shown her that they were just a natural part of the landscape. She’d even spotted red pack hunters drinking from them occasionally.

Everything seemed normal. But there was still that insistent voice in her mind telling her that she needed to leave, because there was danger nearby. With a wary eye on her surroundings, Small One began to patrol the area. The damp soil felt unpleasant and cloying between her talons, and the coarse grass scraped against her scales irritatingly, but that was normal too. It wasn’t until she wandered into a patch of tall grass that she spotted something that seemed off. A strange, black haze hung low above the ground, staining the grass black and causing it to wither. Narrowing her eyes, Small One took off into a hover just above the ground, not trusting the fog. It reminded her of something she’d seen on her travels long ago: an odd black wyvern with wings like a shroud that left tiny black scales scattered in clouds in its wake. Anything that had the misfortune of wandering into the scales would slowly but surely go into a vicious frenzy, thrashing around and killing anything within arm’s reach until it eventually collapsed and died. Small One had breathed in the dusty scales, and found herself unaffected, but this haze was different somehow, and she didn’t like it at all.

She scanned the ground as the black haze slowly encroached along the ground, swallowing up more and more of the long grass. Small One felt at the air with her wings, and tilted her head. The wind was blowing in the  _ opposite  _ direction from the fog’s path. What was driving it forwards, then? A rustling sound and movement caught her eye, and she looked down to see a small group of red pack hunters staring up at her. Or at least, she thought they were red. Instead of sporting vibrantly-coloured red hides, the pack hunters were a sickly purple, dark fog seeping from their scales and their eyes glinting an unnerving shade of red. Small One could barely see their black spots beneath the sickness that rolled off of them. It unnerved her to no end that the five little beasts were staring so intently at her. Normally pack hunters would be long gone at the first hint of her scent in the air, but these five looked like they wanted to fight. One of them hissed at her, more of the haze rolling out of its mouth, and Small One could hear something off in its voice.

One of the pack hunters suddenly jumped up, jaws snapping at Small One’s dangling talons. Reflexively, Small One pulled her legs closer to herself, just barely avoiding the bite. Last time she had seen monsters coated in black smoke, she’d been immune. Now, she didn’t want to take any chances. Soaring away from the yipping and snapping pack hunters, Small One followed the black grass along its path. There was quite a sizeable black patch growing outwards, one that seemed to stretch throughout the entirety of the swamp and beyond. Small One puffed air through her nose, wondering what the cause of the black miasma was. She didn’t like it, it felt strange and wrong and she didn’t like how it had affected the red pack hunters. She could fly away and ignore it, trust that it would go away on its own. Or she could follow it, and see if she could find the source.

Before she had a chance to ponder that, a chirping roar sounded in the air nearby. She barely had a chance to turn her head before something slammed into her, almost knocking her out of the sky. Snarling, she righted herself and glared around, searching for whoever had dared to attack her. Her heart settled uncomfortably in her stomach when she saw the wyvern that was wheeling around to charge at her again. She guessed that it had, at one point, been green, but now its scales and pointed shells were that same sickly purple colour and the intricate membranes of its wings were stained black by the haze. Looking at the vibrating crest on its head and watching as discoloured electricity jumped across its wings and the pincer on its tail, Small One was fairly sure it was a boltcrest. It rattled its crest at her and screeched, its smoke-distorted voice reminding Small One too much of the living corpses.

Small One pulled up sharply just as the wyvern threw itself at her again, narrowly avoiding another hit. Beating her wings as hard as she could, she turned tail, soaring across the blackened swamp in an effort to get away. She could have fought, but she got the impression that the sick boltcrest wasn’t going to flee from her, if the way it had come at her was anything to go by. Normally, nothing even thought about attacking her unless she made the first move, and she’d done nothing to this particular wyvern. She didn’t know if the haze truly was responsible, but it wouldn’t surprise her. And if there was even a chance that the haze could infest her too, she didn’t want to risk getting bitten or scratched. The boltcrest’s first hit had, luckily, not broken through her scales. It had simply thrown itself at her without trying to claw or bite at her.

A warbling chirp told Small One that the boltcrest hadn’t given up yet, a sparking glob of blackened electricity flying towards her from behind. She leaned hard to one side, briefly flying at a right angle to the ground, and let the ball of electricity whizz past her. The harsh beating of wings behind her intensified and the boltcrest screeched again, suddenly lunging forward to grab at Small One’s tail with the claws on its wings. She felt the claws scrape along her scales, and could only hope that the wyvern hadn’t broken the skin. She redoubled her own efforts, pulling ahead of the boltcrest with no heed as to where she was going. Fast as she was, the boltcrest was still gaining on her, screaming and roaring all the while. Small One was half tempted to try slinging ice at it, but that would require a focus she didn’t have time to attain.

Suddenly, the boltcrest put on a burst of speed and smashed into Small One’s back, pinning her wing and sending her crashing into the ground and into a pool of water stained black by the haze. Snapping her jaws and shaking her head, Small One snorted to keep the rolling fog away from her mouth, swiping at the boltcrest’s face to keep its frenzied, snapping jaws away from her. She slashed at its crest and disrupted the charge, causing the boltcrest to reel back with a pained chirp. Spotting an opportunity, Small One took off, soaring straight up into the air as high as she could go. Glancing back, there was no sign of the boltcrest following her, leaving her to soar along in relative peace. The black haze had spread across almost the entire swamp, and Small One decided that was her cue to leave.

As she glided along, her heart raced and her tongue lolled out of her mouth, her breathing haggard. Leftover stress from the boltcrest, she assumed. As she kept flying, coasting on easy thermals and tailwinds, her heart only beat faster, and each breath she took felt like she was trying to pull air in through a throat a hundred times smaller than her own. She felt hot all over, and there was just a creeping tinge of red at the edges of her vision. She needed to rest, yes that was it, just needed to rest and get her breathing under control. Everything was fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does Small One escape from the Astalos? (Finesse = 12)  
> Small One rolls a 7 (required 8). Partial success.
> 
> Has Small One avoided catching the Black Blight? (Luck = 10)  
> Small One rolls a 4 (required 10). Failure.
> 
> Ouuuuuch on that roll. This’ll be interesting.
> 
> I found this one really hard to write for some reason, which is weird because it’s a scene I’ve been detailing in my mind for quite a while now. Just wasn’t in the mood, I guess.


	67. Chapter 67

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How much has the infection progressed? (/10)  
> Small One rolls a 3.
> 
> Does Small One resist joining in the fight? (Intelligence = 12)  
> Black Blight affects Small One’s roll (-3)  
> Small One rolls a 14 - 3 = 11 (required 8). Success.
> 
> Veeery short one tonight, but I spent the entire evening playing Pokemon Showdown with friends and laughing at the April Fool’s Day sprites. They’re the best thing to be honest.

When Small One landed, on a rock formation she knew housed a cave, she simply sat panting, with legs quivering. Her heart felt like it was about to explode, and no matter how much she licked the roof of her mouth it stayed dry. Her tongue felt far too thick in her mouth, so she left it lolling out of the side of her jaws. She sat for a long time, just waiting for everything to go back to normal, but it never did. The haze was coming, and she had no more time to waste sitting around. Her breath would come back to her in the air, if she only rode on easy thermals. She soared up clumsily on an updraft, holding her wings out and letting the air do most of the work. Even through the red tinge in her vision, she could see that the entire swamp ahead was choked under the black fog, and so were the lands beyond.

The haze was billowing across the swamp at an alarming rate, and would soon swallow up the drier scrublands and everything beyond. No place was safe. Her thoughts raced faster than she could keep up with, but she needed to be  _ away _ from the fog, that much was clear. But there was no going away from the fog, not with the way it was shrouding the whole world in darkness. So instead she kept flying in a straight line, confused thoughts convincing her that perhaps she would find salvation eventually if she just kept flying. The fog was  _ wrong _ in an odd way that vaguely reminded Small One of Twisted One, just without the crawling scales. She needed to find the source and then do… something. Probably smash it. Smashing it sounded good. The source was probably ahead and so that’s where she flew.

Each breath felt like knives in her throat, and she found herself having difficulty keeping herself steady in the air. She let out a frustrated growl. The boltcrest couldn’t have scared her  _ that  _ badly. The fog below swirled around as monsters stalked through it. None of them fled from her, just staring with their sickly eyes. Some of them ignored her altogether, choosing to focus instead on ripping each other apart. A black-furred wyvern with blades on its wings leapt and slashed at a wyvern that probably used to be yellow, with crushing jaws and no strategy beyond simply charging its opponent down and biting it. Small One found herself fixated on the battle even as she flew overhead, the bladewing carving a deep gash into the strongjaw’s face and spilling its black-tinged blood. Some part of her wanted to join in, to bite and claw and tear until the two wyverns were no more.

She shook her head to clear the thought. Diving into the black haze and battling two crazed wyverns at once was a terrible idea, and she knew it. So why had it even occurred to her in the first place? She kept flying, leaving the wyverns to kill each other. Everywhere she passed, there was nothing but a swirling miasma of black and the violent wyverns prowling within. It was like the whole world had already fallen to the fog. By the time she had flown above a forest, where all the trees were black and dead-looking, her lungs and wings were burning, and every part of her just wanted to lie down and go to sleep, black haze be damned. She crashed unceremoniously in the darkened woodlands, trying her best to beat the fog away with her wings and failing miserably. Lying down on her side and stretching herself out, she tried to fall asleep, but found herself being kept awake by the sound of her own wheezing breaths.

She lay like that for quite a while, the black haze blocking out any sunlight the trees let through, trying her best to block out the sounds that stopped her from resting. Eventually, the sound of clanging metal convinced her to lift her head and look around. Three small, blurry shapes in the mist caught her attention. She pulled her lips back and growled. Death-prey, hunters to be more specific. The absolute last thing she wanted to see right now. She tried to shove herself to her feet, only managing to get her forelegs into a standing position. Her hindlegs had decided to stay firmly on the ground. Ignoring the complaints from both her racing heart and her dry throat, Small One hissed into the fog. One of the death-prey garbled something, stopping suddenly and raising its weapon in her direction. They’d gone back to using dead monsters as material for weapons, though they at least had the decency to be more sparing in what they hunted and how often. The one that had spotted her stepped closer, its features becoming more clear. 

Small One hissed a warning, the death-prey looking right at her. It was a male, as far as she could tell, one with a shaggy brown mane and astoundingly blue eyes. He held his weapon in Small One direction, glancing over his shoulders and trying and failing to be sneaky about calling his packmates over. Small One glared at him and snapped again. She tried to roar, but her voice was low and hoarse, sounding more like a pitiful squeak than a roar. Her trembling forelegs chose that unfortunate moment to give out, sending her back onto her side with a grunt. The death-prey blinked at her, garbling some more of its annoying noises at her. She picked up the old  _ Alatreon  _ sound in there somewhere, but there was something in the hunter’s tone that she didn’t like. Not quite sadness, something similar but somehow worse. It was  _ pity _ . The death-prey had the gall to  _ pity  _ her. Her, a dragon who could have bitten his spine in half if she hadn’t been so frustratingly weak after the flight from the boltcrest.

She looked the hunter over, and bitterly noted that he seemed to be completely unaffected by the fog. There were no hints of discolouring in his pale skin, and his eyes looked bright and healthy, not a single sign of the craze that had taken hold of the monsters. He reached out a hand as if he wanted to touch Small One’s snout, but she narrowed her eyes and tossed her head at him, horns glinting menacingly. He drew his hand back quickly, choosing instead to stare at her with that sickening pity in his eyes. The other two death-prey drew up behind him, eyes wide and garbling at each other. One of them took a step towards Small One with its two small blades at the ready, but the blue-eyed male reached an arm out and stopped his packmate’s advance. He chattered to the other two in a low voice, and then all three suddenly turned and walked back into the fog, the blue-eyed male looking over his shoulder one last time as he went.

With the sound of the death-prey’s footsteps rapidly being swallowed up by the black mist, Small One closed her eyes and tried again to sleep. She managed to ignore the sounds of her thumping heart and ragged breathing just long enough to slip into blissful sleep.


	68. Choked Land

Small One had no idea what time it was when she finally blinked open her eyes. The dark shroud handing over the forest completely blocked out the sun, leaving her with no way of knowing what was going on. By now, she was fairly sure that something was seriously wrong with her. Her heart still raced, her breath still took far more effort than it should, the red tint to her vision was much more noticeable, and now there were subtle distortions in her field of view. Eyeing her own forearm, she couldn’t be sure, but it looked as though her scales were even blacker than they should be. The characteristic sparkle to her scales was nowhere to be seen, and that unnerved her a bit. How could she be a glitterscale if her scales didn’t glitter?

Standing up, Small One winced a bit, but was pleased to discover that her limbs no longer hurt as much as they did before. In fact, she almost felt a little stronger than usual. Spreading her wings and opting to smash her way through the canopy rather than find an opening, Small One looked down to see if she could get her bearings, but her heart sank when all she could see was a writhing mass of black fog, as far as the eye could see in every direction. Only the tops of the tallest trees and the peaks of distant mountains were visible through the haze. She’d flown from coast to coast for years, but she truly had no idea where she was without anything to use as a landmark. And for some reason, that thought made her angry. She wanted to find something, preferably something living, and shatter it into a million pieces as retribution.

She snorted, shaking her head to try and clear the odd thoughts. Violence was the last thing she should be engaging in. Instead, she should use her head. The fog clearly wasn’t going away. In fact, it was getting worse. There was no ignoring it now, and that meant she needed to try and find the source, whatever that may be. But now, with the haze covering every available surface, it was impossible to figure out where it had originally come from. She remembered it drifting into the marshlands from the north, so perhaps that was where it had originated. It couldn’t have just come from nowhere. Something had to have caused it, but if not one of the black, shroud-winged wyverns, then what? Small One huffed and pointed herself towards what she hoped was the north. Thinking was hard. She’d fly in a straight line and things would work out from there.

As she flew, she watched the fog as it swirled around, occasionally pluming into the air on a gust of wind. For the most part, the open air was clear of the black mist, but Small One didn’t want to waste any time in case that changed. Every now and then, the fog would ripple, and Small One would see some wyvern or beast making its way through the haze without any concerns. All of them trailed smoke as they went, eyes glowing that same eerie red. Screeches and roars drifted up as Small One flew overhead, and she could only imagine the monsters tearing each other apart, driven mad by the black haze. A few wyverns were patrolling the skies, polluting the sky with their billowing contrails of sickness. As silently as she could, Small One climbed, in hopes of avoiding their gazes. The last thing she needed was another chase.

Eventually, Small One came upon what she thought was a valley, though she couldn’t be sure with how choked and dark the whole place was. There were no monsters here, though by the states of the death-prey nests that dotted the hillside, there had been up until recently. Death-prey wandered around, carrying beams of wood or other building materials, with wary hunters stationed all around with weapons drawn. A small crowd had gathered around the corpse of what looked like a glowfur, its pooling blood an unnatural black-purple colour. All of the death-prey looked to be in their right mind, with some wearing masks in an effort to keep the haze away. Small One snarled, stalling in the air above the death-prey colony. Wyverns and beasts were suffering from the haze, and the death-prey had the gall to not only be unaffected, but to carry on hunting monsters as usual?

Screeching her fury, Small One watched as heads turned in her direction and eyes went wide. With panicked garbles and screams, most of the death-prey dropped what they were holding, rushing to the nearest intact nests and slamming the doors shut, as though they seriously thought that their wooden homes could stop a dragon. The hunters all clumped together and aimed their weapons at Small One, shouting up at her with bravado. Small One wasn’t fooled; she could hear the dear in their voice and see the quiver in their stance. They were terrified of her, as well they should be. She recalled Twisted One’s warning from so long ago. The death-prey were his alone to destroy, and she was not to touch them without a strong cause for vengeance. These particular hunters had not offended her _specifically_ , but their very presence was offensive to the land, and they had killed the glowfur in cold blood. Surely that was cause enough for her to slaughter them? In fact, it wouldn’t surprise her if they were the ones responsible for the black haze, somehow. After all, they weren’t affected by it in the least. They deserved to die for that alone.

Rearing back in preparation for a dive, Small One was halfway to the crowd of hunters when she finally managed to snap herself out of the hatred clouding her thoughts. She flared her wings out, sending a few of the hunters cowering, and drew herself back up into the air. What was she doing? All she would accomplish by shattering these villagers would be to bring the wrath of Twisted One down on herself. She took another look at the hunters, all of whom wore confused looks. Their armour was battered and dented, some sporting deep gouges left by claws. One hunter had a bleeding gash on its cheek, and all of their weapons looked as though they could fall apart at any moment. With a start, Small One realised that these were not the same conquerors who had once taken her prisoner. They hadn’t killed the glowfur for their amusement. The shattered homes and beaten hunters were testament to that. No, the glowfur had invaded their home and they’d fought back, and by the looks of things it hadn’t been a fight they’d won easily.

Feeling mildly disgusted with herself, Small One found herself empathising a bit with these death-prey. They may not have been directly affected by the haze themselves, but they were still suffering because of it. They weren’t the cause, and killing them would accomplish nothing. Small One beat her wings and soared away from the nest in the valley, thinking on her own actions. The bloodlust that had overcome her was not normal. Yes, she hated the death-prey, and would probably hate them until the day she died. But Twisted One had told her not to bother them without good reason, and she intended not to get herself killed by ignoring the dragon who ended a war by himself. It wasn’t like her to blindly charge into a fight with hem when she didn’t need to. She killed hunters who attacked her or got too close to her temporary territories, and that was it.

Grimly, Small One forced herself to face the inexorable truth. The racing heart. The ragged breath. The muddled thoughts, the distorted vision. The dull scales, and now the random bouts of bloodthirst. There was no denying it anymore; the haze had taken hold of her too, and without knowing where it was coming from, there was no way of getting rid of it. Putting on a burst of speed, Small One scanned the mist and tried to figure out some sort of pattern to it. How long until her thoughts stopped being her own altogether? Now, more than ever, time was of the essence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How much more has the infection progressed? (/7)  
> Small One rolls a 2 + 3 = 5/10 progress.
> 
> Does Small One think better of destroying the village? (Intelligence = 12)  
> Black Blight affects Small One’s roll (-5)  
> Small One rolls a 20 - 5 = 15 (required 8). Critical Success.
> 
> That was not how I anticipated that roll going, but sure. I’ll take it.
> 
> The Black Blight has really sparse and contradictory lore behind it. They barely even address it in Stories and the anime. I’m not too fussed about that, ‘cause it means I get to fill in the gaps, but you’d think that they’d bother to explain more about what it is and what causes it when it’s literally the main plot driver of the game.


	69. White Light

**** After more than a week of flying, Small One was ready to kill everything that dared to get close to her out of sheer frustration. No amount of flying around had given her any sort of a hint as to what she was looking for. It had become impossible to find a place that was free of mist, so she’d finally resigned herself to just landing in any old place to sleep. The haze was already taking her over; she could see wisps of black vapour rolling from her scales and billowing around her eyes. At this point she didn’t have much to lose by lying in the fog’s embrace. At the very least, her body had stopped hurting, and breathing was a little bit easier now. Her heart still felt like it could explode at any minute, and her movements were clumsier than usual, but that was nothing she couldn’t handle. No, if she was in danger from anything, it was the other monsters.

The ground was a field of corpses no matter where she went. Sick monsters and the hunters who’d tried to put them down lay dead as equals. Even peaceful monsters, like the spike-tailed grazers and the hopping horned things, had gone berserk and charged into battle with other creatures. Wyverns wrestled with each other in the air, crashing onto the ground to be devoured by the angry beasts waiting below. Small One herself had found herself diving into more and more fights as time went on, the desire to slaughter everything she saw too strong for her to resist. The only reason she wasn’t a blackened body rotting on the ground by now was the fact that she was a dragon, and simply that much stronger than all other creatures. Some of the herbivores were starting to starve, too preoccupied with violence to bother feeding on the withered vegetation. Their tainted corpses were ignored by hungry carnivores in favour of more bloodshed. At this rate, there wouldn’t be any monsters left before long.

The thought made Small One angry. They’d survived a war, and had only recently managed to claw their way back up out of the danger zone and begin thriving again. Now that was all going to be ruined by some  _ fog _ . With renewed fury, she charged forward with a vengeance, with no particular direction in mind. She was so focused on her directionless charge that she almost didn’t notice a glowing light, coming from far behind her. She couldn’t be sure, but she thought it might be the forest where she had seen the hunters. Her bloodshot eyes widened when she whirled around in the air to look. As the light intensified, it seemed to sweep back the darkness, revealing the trees beneath. Small One huffed and quickly reversed her flight path, flying as fast as she could towards the light. If that odd radiance could purge the haze from the trees, then perhaps it could purge it from her, too.

As Small One soared towards the glow, she watched monsters below lifting their heads to look at the glow. Unlike her, however, they seemed to take it only as a moment’s distraction, before they returned to whatever they had been doing previously. Too far gone, Small One supposed. Suppressing the urge to dive down and pull the head off of a particularly dumb-looking formerly pink ape, Small One beat her wings until at last she was above the forest. After so long spent in choking darkness, the green of the healthy forest was almost unnatural, almost too bright for Small One’s eyes. But she wasn’t interested in that, she was interested in the light. It seemed to be coming from a particularly dense part of the forest, near a tree so tall and wide it must surely have been a survivor of the war.

The closer Small One got to the source of the glow, the more the smoke seeping from her scales seemed to writhe, as though it was pained by the light. Through the tangled mass of treetops and twisting vines, she could see a radiant crystal, shining out onto the surrounding trees and casting striking shadows along the ground. Small One stopped in for a landing, flaring her wings out to perch atop the stone. It felt warm to the touch, and her scales almost looked normal against its light. She liked the glow. It was comforting, and calming. Suddenly, the black haze rippled around her anew, dulling the shine of her scales and reddening her vision all over again. She snarled. The stone didn’t feel warm anymore, it  _ burned _ , and the only thing for it would be to shatter it, here and now.

Just as she drew back her head to swing her horns at the stone, a sharp shout caught her attention. Craning her neck to see what had dared to interrupt her, she was surprised to see a familiar death-prey running up to her, blue eyes wide with fear. It was the hunter from before, the one who had pitied her when he found her lying weakened in the woods. Small One only spared him a moment’s thought, ignoring him in favour of the strange creature he’d brought along with him. She supposed it was a dragon of some sort—it had the basic shape of one, with four legs and two wings. But it didn’t look like any dragon Small One had ever seen. It was covered in downy white fur and had a pair of horns curving forward by its jaws, as well a luscious white mane that reminded Small One of Bold One. Its broad wings and thick tail were both adorned with long, elegant tassels. It glowed softly in a way that reminded Small One of the stone she was currently sitting on, and there was a startling wisdom in its red gaze—naturally red, not fog-induced red. Small One took in the white dragon’s scent, and found that she smelled pure and clean and innocent, like a hatchling. That struck Small One as odd, given that the dragon was quite large. Almost as large as her, in fact.

Small One hissed at the white dragon, which seemed, strangely enough, to be quite comfortable with the hunter at her side. In response, White One hummed something at Small One in gentle tones. Small One didn’t understand what the other dragon was saying, but it sounded like an order, and she would not have that. The hunter added his own noises to those of White One, and Small One heard the age-old  _ Alatreon _ sound. He held out his hands, his huge blade kept firmly at his back, and made a soft cooing noise that reminded Small One of the kind master from so long ago. Small One snarled at the memory. He was trying to trick her, to lull her into a false sense of security. Well, he was in for a surprise. She was wise to the death-prey and their tricks. The hunter had probably enslaved White One like the death-prey of old, forced her to do his bidding so that he could lure Small One back into captivity.

She wouldn’t stand for it. Screeching at the top of her voice, Small One leapt from the crystal, diving towards the hunter and White One. In the back of her mind, she knew this was a poor decision. The hunter hadn’t tried to harm her in any way, and White One was clearly standing with him of her own free will, for whatever reason. But the haze quickly snuffed out rational thought, leaving nothing but rage and bloodlust in its wake. White One’s eyes went wide, and she used her broad head to shove the blue-eyed hunter out of the way just as Small One slammed down in the spot where he had been standing. Humming angrily, White One opened her mouth and screamed, answering Small One’s roars with a battle-cry of her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How much more has the infection progressed? (/5)  
> Small One rolls a 3 + 5 = 8/10 progression.
> 
> Is Small One able to resist attacking the blue-eyed rider? (Intelligence = 12)  
> Black Blight affects Small One’s roll (-9)  
> Small One rolls a 15 - 9 = 6 (required 8). Partial success.
> 
> Had to cut it short for tonight. I quickly realised that there was no good way to fit both this chapter and the next into one, both for length and time reasons. So if the stopping point seems kinda awkward, well, that’s why.


	70. Dragon Rider

White One’s face twisted with rage, and Small One almost didn’t recognise her as the quiet, contemplative creature she’d been a moment ago. Small One snarled back. Somewhere in the background, the hunter was shouting, but Small One paid him no mind. She’d deal with him in a moment, but White One was the more immediate threat. White One suddenly rushed forward, horns poised to gore Small One. Spreading her wings, Small One hopped back and out of reach, finding her back pressed up against the rough surface of the glowing crystal. White One barely gave her a chance to breathe, charging forward with a high-pitched cry and pointed horns glinting. Small One ducked away just in time, leaving White One to ram her horns into the crystal, breaking a small chunk away from the glowing rock.

With White One momentarily stunned, Small One pressed her advantage. She pounced on the nearest bit of White One she could reach, which just so happened to be the trailing edge of her right wing. Clasping one of the elegant tassels in her mouth, Small One bit down as hard as she could and tugged, slashing at the furry membrane with her claws. White One yelped, but turned her head and opened her mouth, blue-white light emanating from the back of her throat. Small One didn’t like the look of that. It wasn’t like any element she’d ever seen, and certainly not an element she could wield. Releasing White One’s ragged wing, Small One tried to get to a safe distance away, but White One was too quick for her. A gleaming ball of what seemed to be pure light struck Small One dead in the chest. At once, Small One was overloaded with sensations she didn’t understand, couldn’t make sense of. The light burned, but it was warm and friendly, too. The impact knocked the wind out of her, but it also felt like a relaxing bit of grooming.

Reeling from the attack, Small One almost didn’t notice the insignificant figure standing in front of her. The blue-eyed death-prey was standing between her and White One, holding a hand out in front of each dragon. White One was staring at him with something that Small One could almost swear was love. But when the red eyes flicked back up to Small One, the bestial snarl came back. The death-prey was speaking in soft tones, looking up at Small One. Still trying to catch her breath, Small One looked down at him. He reached his hand into the folds of his armour and withdrew a glowing blue chunk of stone, holding it up to Small One and chattering excitedly to her. He curved his mouth upwards in that way that death-prey did when they felt like they had something to be happy about. Small One hissed, glaring down at the hunter. The only time a death-prey ever seemed to be happy was when a dragon was miserable.

With a screech, Small One raised her head to smash the hunter with her horns. His happiness turned to fear right before Small One’s eyes. To Small One’s surprise, her horns did not clash on the hunter’s armour, but instead dig into the soft fur and flesh of White One’s mane. Small One blinked. White One had thrown herself between Small One and the hunter—and allowed herself to be injured in the process. White One suddenly snapped her head up, catching Small One’s snout in her jaws with a feral snarl. Small One thrashed and writhed her head, even as White One’s sharp teeth dug into her scales and left bleeding puncture wounds behind. With no small amount of effort, she wrenched her head free from White One’s jaws, raising a talon to slash White One across the face. White One flinched, but stood her ground, barking angrily and standing with the hunter between her legs like a mother protecting a hatchling.

Small One didn’t understand. Why was White One so fixated on protecting the hunter? Was she simply too young to remember what his kind had done? Or did she know, and just not care? White One didn’t look like she planned on going anywhere, legs set firmly on the ground and great wings splayed out with tassels waving. The hunter stared at Small One, his blue eyes alight with something which might have been sorrow. Suddenly, he dashed out from beneath White One’s legs, ignoring the dragon’s hum of protest. Small One couldn’t help but quirk her head when, rather than run away or come charging with his sword, the hunter grabbed onto the nearest wing tassel, garbling something to White One. White One made a purring sound, then carefully raised her wing and deposited the hunter on her back.

Small One’s eyes widened more than she had ever thought possible. Even during the days of slavery and war, the death-prey  _ never  _ tried to ride on the backs of dragons. To try as much was to die, no matter how broken you thought your prey was. While Small One was staring, White One spread her broad, majestic wings and took to the air, hovering easily and looking regal and aloof. Small One would have found it intimidating, but the hunter sitting on her back lent the whole sight a more surreal feeling. A death-prey was riding a dragon. And neither was attempting to kill the other. No matter how Small One tried to rationalise it, she couldn’t help but be mystified. She shook her head in an attempt to get herself back into the fight. White One and the hunter had formed some sort of strange alliance, but that wasn’t going to distract her from smashing the shining crystal, and they were still in the way.

Though she tensed herself for an incoming attack, Small One was surprised when one never came. While White One still looked as though she wanted to rip Small One’s head off, the hunter was leaning forward, one hand gripping a tuft of White One’s mane (a tuft which wasn’t matted with blood). He had his mouth curved up again, and was holding the blue stone up with his other hand. Small One wasn’t sure what message he wanted her to take from that. Though she wanted to stop fighting, if only so she could investigate the strange sight she was seeing, the haze clouding her thoughts spurred her forward. She pounced, spreading her wings and taking to the air as she did so. White One’s reaction was immediate. Holding herself as steady as possible so as not to dislodge her rider, she suddenly let loose with a beam of white light, so bright it hurt Small One’s eyes to look at. Small One didn’t have any time to even think about dodging before the beam struck her square in the chest, searing her scales and leaving her breathless even as the acrid stench of burning flesh rose into the air.

Knocked to the ground and struggling just to breathe, Small One had no hope of escaping or counterattacking when White One dove down, charged up to her and grabbed her by the throat. With deadly jaws at her throat and lethal horns on either side, Small One knew she was beaten. There was nothing left to do but wait for White One to tear her throat out and be done with it. But the killing blow never came. From her limited angle, Small One could see one of White One’s red eyes, burning with contempt, but choosing not to end it. Urgent chatters from the hunter caused White One’s eyes to flick back, before she suddenly released her grip on Small One’s throat with a sharp bark. Now free, Small One had no intention of restarting the fight. The haze urged her on, tried to get her to shatter the rock and kill White One and the death-prey. Small One ignored it, knowing full well that she had been granted mercy only by the odd kindness in the blue-eyed hunter’s heart. To abuse that strange compassion would be to die.

Scrambling to her feet, Small One watched as the hunter slid from White One’s back without any fear of retribution. White One kept her ire firmly on Small One, barely even acknowledging the hunter. Small One kept one eye on White One just in case, even as the death-prey cautiously approached, the glowing blue stone still in his hand. He seemed to have an attachment to it, whatever it was. When he was as close to Small One as he dared to get, he held the stone out, making soft, reassuring noises. White One narrowed her eyes at Small One, as if daring her to attack. Small One growled at her to relax even knowing the other dragon wouldn’t understand. Small One would hardly be so foolish as to attack the death-prey after what happened last time.

Instead, she dipped her head, leaning in close to examine to offered rock. It was quite a pretty stone, but aside from the vivid blue colour and the soft glow, it was quite unremarkable. There were no special patterns on it, nor was it an unusual shape. It looked like an ordinary shard of rock. Just one which happened to be glowing for some reason. She wasn’t entirely sure what to do with it, but she touched her snout to it anyway, just to see if she could feel anything odd about it. At once, she noticed how  _ warm  _ it was. It felt the same as when she’d first landed on the giant crystal: comforting and calming. She could feel the haze writhing, could practically hear it screaming. In the light of the stone, the scales on her snout didn’t look quite so dark anymore, and the wisps of black fog were melting away into the air. The hunter grinned at her, his chatters coming faster and more excited now.

Small One stiffened when the hunter gingerly laid his other hand on her snout. The last time a death-prey touched her snout, it had tied her up and left her in a cell to rot. She knew it was an irrational fear; this death-prey had shown no aggression to her, had clearly done something to earn the admiration of White One, and was in the middle of using an odd stone to purge the haze from her. But she was afraid nonetheless, and for just a moment the mist returned, darker than before, and Small One entertained thoughts of biting the hunter’s head off for daring to touch her. The hunter quickly realised his mistake, pulling his hand back and murmuring under his breath. He reached his hand out again, and Small One pulled her head back ever so slightly. But rather than try to touch her again, the hunter opened his hand, splaying the stubby claws out as if to show he was no threat. He held his hand in front of her, looking at her with hope in his sparkling blue eyes.

Small One sniffed at the offered hand. The smell of death lingered, but it was light and distant, like a fading memory. Small One didn’t understand. He wasn’t trying to pet her snout anymore? What was he doing, then? He had yet to move his hand or make any more noises, simply standing and watching. More of the mist dissipated as Small One came to a realisation. The hunter was asking for  _ permission _ . He wanted her to decide whether or not he could touch her. He was showing her respect, letting her choose for herself rather than forcing himself on her. Treating her like a living being, and not just something to be used for his own purposes. He was a death-prey, yes. His kind had done awful things in the past, both to Small One and others. But… just maybe… it was possible that they weren’t all bad, not anymore. At the very least, this particular hunter wasn’t of the same conquering breed she’d grown up with.

He was asking for  _ permission _ . And, when Small One gently pressed her snout into the palm of his hand, she granted it.

The effect was instant. The blue stone flashed brightly for a second, and Small One felt something peeling away. Any lingering haze was swept away, and it suddenly felt as if Small One had shed a weight she hadn’t realised she’d been carrying. Her vision returned to normal, allowing her to appreciate the vibrant green of the forest and the soothing radiance of the crystal. White One looked at Small One with an unreadable expression, back to her calm, collected self.

The hunter stared up at Small One, his blue eyes sparkling with barely restrained joy. He quickly pocketed the stone, and offered his now free other hand. At a soft croon from Small One, Gentle One cradled her chin in his hands and laughed, the sound of delight echoing into the forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does Small One overpower White One? (Strength = 12)  
> Black Blight affects Small One’s roll (+4)  
> Small One rolls a 2 + 4 = 6 (required 8). Failure.
> 
> Does the blue-eyed rider cure Small One’s Blight? (Luck = 10)  
> Small One rolls a 12 (required 10). Success.
> 
> Ahhh, I’m so sorry to have not only missed my third (and hopefully last) day, but to have left you with a cliffhanger through a longer-than-usual wait. This chapter is longer than usual to make up for it. I had a particularly important assignment to finish off last night, and it was unfortunately necessary to use up my usual fanfiction time to work on that instead. On the plus side, that’s the last assignment I have to submit this year.


	71. Dark Omen

For a few moments, nothing moved. Small One didn’t think it was all that long, but it certainly  _ felt  _ like an age went by with Gentle One lightly scratching her chin. His hands were rough and calloused, but his touch was soft. Eventually, the moment passed, and Gentle One pulled his hands away. He took a step closer to Small One, who had to remind herself that he was no threat. White One kept her gaze firmly on Small One, eyes narrowing ever so slightly when Small One tensed. Small One huffed at the strange dragon. The haze was gone, and Small One’s thoughts were her own again. White One needed to calm down. 

In the tranquility of the forest and the soft light of the crystal, it was almost possible to imagine that the rest of the world  _ wasn’t  _ being swallowed up in darkness. But Small One knew that wasn’t true, and Gentle One clearly did too, turning to bound up onto White One’s back. Internally, Small One was just thankful he hadn’t tried to ride  _ her _ . She didn’t think she was quite ready for that, yet. White One took to the air in one fluid motion, somehow managing to hold herself perfectly upright. Gentle One had clumps of mane in both of his hands, but Small One suspected he wouldn’t have fallen off even without them. Unsure of what to do with herself now, Small One chose to follow them. The pair seemed to know how best to purge the haze. Sticking with them could only be a good thing.

Gentle One beamed as Small One flew alongside White One, garbling excitedly at her. Small One wondered if he knew she didn’t understand. She humoured him with a croon of her own, and White One answered with a low hum. White One’s noises were unlike any Small One had ever heard before. In fact, White One in general was unlike anything Small One had ever seen before. She didn’t know of any dragons that had fur, aside from firemanes and one-horns, and she had never heard of any dragon breathing light. She couldn’t remember ever seeing anyone like White One during the war, either. Was White One just of a particularly reclusive breed? But then why was she hanging around with a death-prey? Small One stowed those thoughts for later consideration. They were about to fly above a haze-ridden grassland, and Small One didn’t want to pick it up again by being careless.

White One stared down at the choking black fog with disdain in her eyes, watching as a pair of flying wyverns ruthlessly kicked and tore at one another. Small One couldn’t be sure, but she thought they might once have been red and green. She shivered. Left unattended, the mist must be powerful beyond belief if even the most stalwart of mates were battling each other. Gentle One looked down at them, his expression downcast. Small One could tell he wanted to go down there and stop them, if the way he was twitching was anything to go by. White One looked back at him and made an odd chiming noise. Small One didn’t understand, but Gentle One seemed to get it, suddenly leaning forward and chattering at White One. White One beat her massive wings and dashed forwards, surprising Small One with a sudden burst of speed. Small One snorted. Wings that showy and impractical should not be able to move that quickly.

Small One grinned to herself, lips pulled back to show her teeth. Sure, White One had big, pretty wings, but Small One was still the better flier. Beating her wings to catch up, she tucked into a perfect twirl just as she returned to pacing the white dragon. Gentle One watched her with sparkling eyes. White One just sighed, watching Small One with something which might have been exasperation. Small One ignored her, pulling up sharply and briefly flying upside down, chuffing to herself at the shocked looks on both dragon and rider. She was just glad she still remembered these tricks from her days spent with Bold One and Clever One. On long, boring flights, the best thing to pass the time was to try and outdo one another with acrobatics. Clever One had always been awful at it, but Bold One was a quick learner who liked to steal Small One’s ideas. They’d kept each other on their toes.

Gentle One was clapping his hands together by the time Small One decided that she’d had enough of twirls, loops, and flips. The rest of the flight passed uneventfully, and Small One got to enjoy White One’s sour expression the whole way. Dragon and rider seemed to be looking for something, their eyes flitting along the ground. Small One would have helped, but she had no idea what she was trying to find. Suddenly, White One dove, towards a raised ridge that Small One only now realised was the trailing end of small mountain range, one covered with soft ice. How had she missed that? Everything looked the same beneath the blanket of black fog, but still. White One dove past the place where the ice ended, and into what Small One was fairly sure was a highland forest. Maybe. It was hard to tell.

Not knowing what else to do with herself, Small One followed the pair down. Her heart began to race all over again she dipped beneath the mist. Holding her breath wasn’t going to work forever. She just had to trust that whatever Gentle One had done had well and truly cured her. White One’s face was set in a grimace as she touched down and began to make her way through the gnarled and sick-looking trees. Small One followed, stepping over the rotting, mangled corpses of wyverns and beasts. The woods were eerily silent aside from the crunching of leaves and sticks beneath the dragons’ feet. Everything was dead, she supposed. Nothing left to make a sound.

After a short walk, the trio came to a cliff, overlooking the countryside. Or at least, Small One assumed that’s what it was overlooking. Right now all she could see was a rippling, twisting fogbank. She didn’t spare the ruined view much more than a glance, however. Instead, she focused her attentions on the massive lump of rock that sat a ways back from the edge. It was pitch black and misshapen, and really quite ugly to look at. Upon closer inspection, it almost seemed to be leaking the black mist. Small One blinked. Was this rock the source of the problem? Gentle One slid from White One’s back, reaching into his armour and withdrawing the blue stone he was so enamoured with. White One stood back as the hunter walked forward with the stone cupped in both hands.

Small One looked around, half expecting some maddened monster to erupt from the trees to try and bite him in half, but nothing ever did. Initially, that pleased her, but her joy was tempered when the realisation set in. Nothing was attacking because there was nothing left to attack. All the monsters in the area were dead. With that grim thought in mind, Small One watched Gentle One as he held up the glowing blue stone to the lumpy black rock. At first, nothing happened. But then, subtly at first, the blue stone began to glow brighter. Small One had to blink a few times to be sure, but it looked as though the big rock was glowing too, albeit weakly. All at once, the two stones erupted in a bright blast of light, forcing Small One to cover her eyes with a wing.

When the spots finally cleared from Small One’s vision, the area had been transformed. The grass was lush and healthy, rippling in a brisk breeze. The tree trunks had returned to their normal, healthy colour, with full crowns of leaves. And the huge stone had shed the black mist, shining bright with a warm light. It was as though the haze had never existed. The only thing missing was the sound of monsters calling to one another. Gentle One rushed up to White One and spread his arms out, catching her in an embrace. He looked rather ridiculous, completely failing to wrap his arms around her broad chest and looking more like he was just awkwardly shoving himself up against her. But White One purred, clearly alright with the contact. 

Small One felt distinctly awkward, like she was intruding on something. While she did her best to avert her gaze and look busy, she sniffed around the area, searching for any lingering traces of the sickness. Amazingly, it really did seem to be gone. Everything smelled clean and alive, and there was no odd sense of foreboding in the air. Even the trees, which had previously looked like they’d been dead for years, seemed to have made a miraculous recovery. It was impossible to tell that they’d ever been corrupted.

While she investigated a particularly old-looking tree, a hint of black in the corner of her eye caught Small One’s attention. She turned to look, half-expecting to find a growing patch of blackness. She quirked her head. Instead of a pool of mist or a bit of dead grass, Small One saw a few black scales, half-covered by the long grass they lay in. They would have been impossible to find in the darkness of the fog. Small One pulled the grass aside with a talon and lowered her head to sniff at the scales. An instinctive shudder rolled down her spine. The scent from the scales was best described as ‘confusing’. They smelled like a million different things. Blood, fear, ash, metal. They smelled  _ wrong _ .

By now, Gentle One and White One had broken their embrace, and Gentle One came running up to see what Small One was looking at. When he saw the scales, he bent down and picked one up. Though the scale was pure black, it caught the light when held at just the right angle. He grabbed it in both hands and tried bending it, but the scale held firm. White One lowered her head to sniff at it and recoiled in disgust. For her part, Small One was examining the scale, taking in its colour and shape. A black scale that smelled  _ wrong  _ and which wouldn’t bend. Small One grimaced. There was only one creature that could have come from. Gentle One and White One didn’t seem to get it. In her heart, Small One knew that these scales were important. She refused to believe that they were here, next to a source of corruption, by pure chance. And if dragon and rider couldn’t make the connection, then the task fell to her.

Gingerly picking up one of the other scales in her mouth, Small One spread her wings to take off, growling to Gentle One and White One even though they wouldn’t understand. Though the thought itself made her want to curl up in a ball somewhere and hide, Small One knew there was no other choice.

It was time to pay Twisted One a visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is the Kinship Ore unguarded? (Luck = 10)  
> Small One rolls a 19 (required 10). Success.
> 
> Does Small One put two and two together? (Intelligence = 12)  
> Small One rolls a 15 (required 8). Success.
> 
> Am I the only one who found the geography of Stories to be really weird? Like, you start in this temperate-looking hillside, but then you walk through a forest and suddenly you’re on a snowy mountain. Walk through a cave and now you’re in a big grassland. Look to your left, there’s a rainforest. Just down the road there’s a desert. And if you swing a really hard right, there’s a volcano. It’s all very… compact.
> 
> On a more relevant note, would anybody be interested in a side story of sorts showing events from the perspectives of different characters? It would be a completely separate anthology to this, but set in the same universe and with the same characters. It also wouldn’t update as frequently as this story, just whenever I happened to feel like adding to it. Show of hands, yea or nay?


	72. Desert Aberration

When Small One took off, White One and Gentle One followed her for a while. Before long, though, they veered off and left her alone. Small One figured they were probably going to search for more crystals. That was fine by her. Truth be told, she didn’t want them to come with her. Gentle One had clearly never met Twisted One, or he wouldn’t be alive. And White One hadn’t seemed to recognise the scales. Neither of them had any idea what they were dealing with. Small One just hoped she was wrong, and that the black beast  _ wasn’t  _ responsible for the taint spreading across the land. Because if he was… well, then she had no idea what to do. She hadn’t seen him in more than a century, but there was no doubt he was still around. And he was probably just as deadly as ever, maybe even more so.

The scale she held in her mouth proved itself to be quite a useful guide. It seemed to thrum with energy, as if it was still alive. That was unnerving, but it intensified when Small One flew in certain, seemingly random directions. Perhaps the scale was responding to its owner? She decided to assume it was—it was the only real hint she had as to the dark dragon’s location. Twisted One was quite good at hiding when he didn’t want to be found. Following the scale took Small One across haze-ridden grasslands and over a desert blackened desert, the mist mingling with sand to form a huge cloud of stinging sickness. As she flew, dodging the few wyverns that were still around to attack, she did her best not to land except when she needed to. She couldn’t stay aloft forever; even strong as she was, her wings needed a rest every now and then. The haze never took her again, but she now found herself facing the issue of her hunger. She had absolutely no desire to try eating one of the many putrid carcasses that lay around, but the only other option was to kill a crazed monster and eat that. She’d take her chances with starvation instead.

It took her the better part of a week to follow the scale into the depths of the desert, near a tainted oasis. In that time, a bright flash of light coming from somewhere near the highlands helpfully informed her that Gentle One and White One were continuing to do their jobs. When Small One reached the oasis (and, reluctantly, lapped up some of the filthy water), the scale had outlived its usefulness. It was pulsating with warm energy constantly, at the same intensity no matter which way she faced. Small One wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing. It could mean that it had simply been leading her in random places the whole time, or it could mean that Twisted One was nearby. She wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing, either.

**Oh? Who’s this I see? Someone** **_not_ ** **running around screeching and ripping everyone else’s heads off? How unusual in this day and age.**

Small One froze at the sound of the otherworldly voice. That answered that question. It had been a century and half, but the feeling of something invading your mind was not one easily forgotten. Still, something was…  _ off  _ about the black beast’s voice. It sounded different somehow. Smoother. It sounded so familiar, but just ever so slightly off. Small One chalked that up to time. It  _ had  _ been a while since she’d heard Twisted One speak, and he hadn’t been in the best of moods at the time. Craning her neck, Small One peered into the gloom, searching for the glowing golden orbs she knew were nearby. It didn’t take her long to find them: Twisted One sat atop a misshapen lump of rock, whiplike tail wrapped around his perch, almost invisible in the gloom aside from his eerie eyes.

Small One had a sneaking suspicion she knew what he was sitting on. That would be something to lead Gentle One and White One to, if she survived this encounter. For now, Small One did her best to minimise that chances of that happening by taking a step  _ towards  _ the black beast. Instinctively, she sucked in a sharp breath—then immediately screwed up her face in confusion. It wasn’t just Twisted One’s voice that was wrong. He  _ smelled  _ wrong too. She couldn’t figure out just what was different, but something was. There were the usual scents of blood and ash and the metal from melted armour. Taking another deep breath, Small One tried to figure out what was bothering her. Something was  _ missing _ .

And then it hit her, her heart stopping in her chest for just a moment. Small One looked up at the golden eyes just as the black beast threw back  _ her  _ head and rumbled mockingly.

**I was waiting for you to notice.**

Small One barely registered the black beast’s words. Gods above, there was  _ another one _ . No wonder the voice sounded different. A completely separate black beast. Well, there went the world. One was destructive enough. Two was the apocalypse.

**Yes, my erm… father? Brother? Other self? ...is quite the character. I do so enjoy his spontaneous bouts of murder.**

Small One cocked her head at that. What did this new beast mean by that?

**Well, what would** **_you_ ** **call me? I was spawned from one of his old hearts after someone ripped it out a while ago. They left me in a locked box for a while, but a convenient idiot opened it up and let me regenerate. Of course, I didn’t realise that the rest of me was still alive. So now there’s two of me running around. Ah well. The more the merrier, right?**

Small One felt her spirits fall, any notions she’d ever entertained of killing Twisted One instantly evaporating. Not only did he survive having his heart pulled out so long ago, but that heart had turned into a  _ new  _ Twisted One. Now she was wondering about his broken horn. Had  _ that  _ turned into a new beast, too?

**Oh, I hope not. I seem to have regenerated without my hardhorn, if you know what I mean. Having an actual former horn wandering around would just be adding insult to injury.**

This whole idea was aberrant to Small One. The idea that bits of a maimed dragon could turn into completely new dragons went against everything she knew. Dead things stayed dead, they didn’t come back to life or turn into more of themselves. Small One was so lost in her thoughts that she almost didn’t notice Aberrant One slinking up to her, contempt burning in the crystalline eyes.

**It’s not often that someone approaches me willingly. I find your boldness fascinating. What do you want?**

That got Small One’s attention. She had almost forgotten why she’d come here on the first place. Jabbing her horns in the direction of the darkened rock and Gesturing to the surrounding fog, Small One got straight to the point: what had caused it?

**Oh, is that all? I did.**

Small One wasn’t sure what she had been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t a stark admission. She shouldn’t have been surprised by the complete lack of guilt in Aberrant One’s voice, but somehow she was anyway. Twisted One had always complained bitterly about not being ‘allowed’ to kill every living thing, and Aberrant One was a piece of Twisted One. Shouldn’t she harbour similar concerns?

**Well, it’s not as if I did it on purpose. The results are highly entertaining, but I assure you it wasn’t my intention to cause such a mess. It’s just that when I was putting myself back together, a few extra bits of me happened to soak into the ground. I didn’t know they’d wind up making everything sick, but hey. Watching monsters tear each other to pieces and then fall over dead never gets old. Watching the humans run around trying to fix the problem is similarly amusing.**

Small One looked at the corrupted crystal. So the rocks weren’t the source then. But then what was their connection to the haze, and why were they able to stop it?

**You know, I’ve been wondering that myself. I’m not too opposed to the idea of letting  them cleanse the land, though. Any longer and everything is liable to die. And then what will I kill? It would be quite a boring world indeed.**

Despite herself, Small One snorted. Of course that would be the dragon’s only concern. No worries about all the monsters who were dying beneath the pestilence that Aberrant One had spread. Just mild concern that she would run out of playthings if it carried on.

**You should know by now that I really don’t care about** **_any_ ** **of your lives. I’m not quite as strong as Other Me yet, but I’d be happy to demonstrate my ability to kill for you, if you’d like.**

At that, Aberrant One leaned in closer to Small One, teeth bared in a wicked leer. Small One took a few steps back, wings rustling in anticipation of a quick getaway. Aberrant One’s rumbling laughter shook her chest.

**I** **_would_ ** **do that, but that would be boring. And as we’ve just established, I don’t like to be bored. Instead, I think I’ll let you and those two friends you’ve made entertain me a while longer. Those stones you’re looking for? I was just sitting on one. There’s one in a volcano that’s not too far away. There’s one on an island just off the coast. And there’s a particularly big one near the top of a snowy mountain peak. Now, go be a good little baby and report back, alright?**

Small One blinked, unsure what she had just heard. Had Aberrant One just given her directions? Why? Since when had Twisted One ever cared about anything other than himself and causing as much mayhem as possible? Aberrant One should have been the same, by all rights.

**I suggest you leave before I change my mind.**

Small One didn’t need to be told twice. She rocketed back off into the sky, aiming herself at where she had last seen a beacon of light. She didn’t know if Aberrant One had been telling her the truth, but she wasn’t going to argue the point. For now, she needed to get back to White One and Gentle One.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does Small One successfully get information from Aberrant One? (Intelligence = 12)  
> Small One rolls a 20 (required 8). Critical Success.
> 
> Some of the Fatalis exposition in this chapter delves into headcanon territory. But it has its roots in canon. It’s canon that Fatalis can regenerate itself from severed parts—the giant sword in Pokke Village is made from Fatalis materials and has to be mined constantly to keep it from turning back into a Fatalis. Fatalis has also been speculated in official sources to be the original Black Dread that caused the Blight. Fatalis is just an interesting monster in general, really.


	73. Crystal Clear

Small One was somewhat surprised she didn’t kill herself as she frantically flew back to where she’d last seen a burst of light. Between the lack of food and her refusal to rest for more than an hour at a time, Small One was ready to drop dead by the time she finally caught sight of Gentle One and his white dragon. The pair were flying in broad circles above the plains, heads down. Small One supposed they hadn’t found any of the other crystals yet. Aberrant One had given her directions, but there was every chance those instructions were a complete fabrication. She wouldn’t put it past the black beast to lie for her own amusement.

Still, there was one crystal Small One knew the location of for sure. And though her wings ached at the mere thought of flying all the way back to the oasis, she knew it was for the greater good. As soon as she got within earshot of dragon and rider, she barked out a greeting. White One whirled on her, a harsh glow already building in her mouth, but then she realised who was there and closed her mouth again. Gentle One beamed, happily chattering away even though Small One had no idea what he was saying. She still wasn’t sure whether or not he knew that. White One hummed, almost looking disappointed that Small One had returned. Small One puffed air through her nose, ignoring White One’s animosity.

Positioning herself in front of White One, Small One chirped, jerking her head towards the desert. Gentle One and White One blinked at her. Small One hung her head and huffed. Oh, how she wished she had the uncanny abilities of a one-horn right now. It would have made explaining things that much easier. She tried again, a little more insistent. This time, Gentle One actually turned his head in the direction she was pointing at. Good, that was progress. Now that she had his attention, Small One tried taking a few experimental flaps towards the oasis. White One stayed hovering in place, head tilted. With a growl of frustration, Small One flew up to White One and sunk a talon into her mane, pulling her forward with a jerk of an arm. White One pulled herself free with an annoyed chime and glaring daggers at Small One. Small One glared right back, willing White One to just understand and  _ follow _ already. Gentle One was flicking his eyes between both dragons with concern, like he thought they were going to fight.

Small One tried again to explain to White One that they needed to follow her because she’d found a crystal, but now the strange furry dragon was refusing to move even at Gentle One’s urging. Small One groaned. They didn’t have time for this. An idea crossed her mind. She tried to chase it away, but it kept coming back. She couldn’t get them to follow her, because she didn’t speak death-prey or odd-white-dragon. And she couldn’t drag White One along with her, because she was much too big and it would make flying awkward. But Gentle One was not too big. He was, in fact, rather small. He was tall for a death-prey, but death-prey had stopped towering over Small One a long time ago. The question was, was she willing to do it?

Small One took another glance at White One’s unrelenting, unamused stare, and decided that she needed to get over herself. She could be traumatised later, now was the time for action. Without giving herself a chance to think about what she was doing, Small One swooped down and snatched Gentle One up in her talons, careful to grab him where his armour was thickest. He shouted, kicking his legs in the air, while White One stared up at Small One and howled. Small One screeched right back. Gentle One was being as uncomprehending as the rest of his kind and White One was being a stubborn idiot. They needed a minder at this point. Small One rolled to one side, dodging White One’s clumsy lunge. Gentle One seemed to have realised that flailing was the opposite of what he wanted to be doing, choosing instead to cling to Small One’s wrists for all he was worth. White One lined herself up for another charge, but a shout from Gentle One stopped her. Instead, she stalled in the air, face twisted up in rage and fangs on display.

Taking a deep breath, Small One had to will herself to carry out step two of her plan. There was nothing to be afraid of. He wouldn’t try to chain her up. He had already proven to her that he didn’t deserve her hatred, or her fear. Steadying herself, Small One rolled her shoulders in a fluid motion. She’d played games in the air for years as a juvenile. She just hoped those skills carried over as a subadult, or the would be rather messy. With practiced ease, she flipped onto her back… and tossed Gentle One up onto the air as high as she could. He didn’t even seem to realise what was happening for a split second, but then he started kicking and screaming. White One was already moving to catch him, but Small One was way ahead of her. Flipping back over, she positioned herself just right, beating her wings to gain just a little extra lift.

And caught Gentle One on her back.

He stiffened for a moment, and Small One winced as she remembered that her back was covered in rather pointed spines. But the moment passed, and Small One fought back the old hatchling’s fear as his arms wrapped themselves around her neck. She twisted her head to look at him, and saw him clinging to her back for dear life, but with a huge grin splitting his face and blue eyes wide. Small One crooned, then pointed herself in the right direction and beat her wings. White One pulled up alongside her, a sour look on her face. Gentle One garbled something to her that seemed to calm her down just enough that she no longer looked like she wanted to hit Small One with another one of those light blasts. Small One gave a cheeky chirp, then suddenly put on a burst of speed that left White One scrambling to keep up. Gentle One shouted from her back, and she couldn’t tell if it was out of fear or excitement. It didn’t matter, because they needed to move fast whether he liked it or not.

Now that she knew where the go, the trip into the desert went much quicker. Still, the experience of having someone ride on her back was rather surreal. She could feel him shifting his weight constantly, shuffling back and forth and changing what he was using as handholds. He leaned with her when she banked, flattened himself when she climbed. She only barely noticed him—even fully armoured he weighed almost nothing compared to her—but the knowledge that she was carrying something small and very easy to break on her back was rather unnerving. This must be how Furious One had felt when he’d carried her and the other hatchlings on his back. Small One had even more respect for the old male now. How had he managed to outmanoeuvre a living corpse without dropping any of the six hatchlings he’d been carrying?

Small One was glad when she finally reached the oasis and touched down, not least because she was getting tired and her flight was growing unsteady. As soon as she landed, Gentle One jumped down from her back, patting her sides with a cheerful exclamation of some sort. White One alighted next to him, and almost immediately nuzzled him while giving Small One the iciest stare imaginable. Small One just snorted and focused on catching her breath. Even the putrid black water looked tempting right now, but she would wait until after the crystal had purged the darkness. Thankfully, there was no trace of Aberrant One. The dragon had moved on, something which left Small One sighing in relief. Gentle One didn’t waste any time, striding straight up to the giant rock with blue stone in hand.

Small One knew what to expect this time, holding both wings over her eyes. Even through the dark membranes of her wings, the flash was so bright it left spots in her vision. When the light cleared, it was like the desert was a different place altogether. The sand was loose and golden, reflecting the light of the bright sun. The oasis’ water was clear and pure, and Small One wasted no time in plunging her snout in and sucking down as much water as she could hold. It wouldn’t do anything for her hunger, but not being thirsty was always preferable. Gentle One splashed water on his face and cupped his hands to drink, while White One attempted to be subtle about splashing water on Small One, and failed. Small One sneered, then used her tail to send a veritable tidal wave into White One’s mane. Gentle One laughed as the two dragons began splashing each other with increasing fervour, relishing in the chance to take a break for once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is Aberrant One gone? (Luck = 10)  
> Small One rolls a 13 (required 10). Success.
> 
> I’m actually kinda sad that one was a success, we could’ve had a fun encounter.
> 
> Just a heads up. I’m going on holidays for about a week. I will try my absolute best to keep up the usual schedule while I’m away, but the Internet where I’ll be staying is not reliable in the slightest, so it’s possible that I may miss updating. If that happens, I’ll break my usual policy and upload all the finished chapters on the same day when I get back. Just letting you know that if things suddenly go silent, it isn’t because I’ve died or abandoned the story.
> 
> Also, the first chapter of that side story I was talking about the other day is about half-written. It’s from Clever One’s perspective and takes place waaaay into the past, near the beginning of the story. That’ll probably go up sometime next week, or if I can’t upload while I’m away, when I get back.


	74. Volcanic Journey

Though she tried to fight it, Small One eventually did fall asleep on the warm sand, thoroughly soaked after spending so long splashing about with White One. They’d accidentally gotten Gentle One too, but he hadn’t seemed to mind, using his hands to try and splash the dragons back. He was much too small to make any sort of meaningful contribution to the ‘battle’, and he didn’t seem to know whose side he was on, but Small One appreciated the effort nonetheless. The warm, clear air and bright sun quickly dried Small One’s scales and left her feeling refreshed, though she still wanted to find something edible, and fast. When she roused herself from slumber, she was greeted by the sight of White One curled around Gentle One, mane and fur fluffed up. The strange dragon was purring softly, her wing draped across Gentle One’s back.

White One was like an overprotective mother fussing over her hatchling. As soon as she caught Small One staring, she narrowed her eyes. Small One chittered at her and hauled herself to her feet, huffing in White One’s direction. Taking a break was nice, but the desert sun was trying its best to pierce her scales and set her on fire. It was time to move on to the next crystal. Well, more accurately, it was time to fly to one of the places Aberrant One had mentioned and hope the dragon hadn’t been lying.

Casting her mind back to her conversation with the black beast, Small One tried to puzzle out where exactly the crystals were. A volcano, an island, and a snowy mountain. Thinking on it, Small One remembered Aberrant One noting that the one on the mountain was particularly large. Would that make it particularly tainted by the haze? Perhaps it would be best to leave that one for last. That left the choices of volcano and island. Small One had never flown very far into the open ocean. Though she was fairly sure she was strong enough to cross the sea by now, the idea of spending so long over the unfathomable abyss unnerved her. Add on her lack of food, and she didn’t think she wanted to risk it just yet.

That left the volcano as the only option. Small One was quite familiar with a great many volcanoes, but the haze choked the sky and made navigating near-impossible. Aberrant One had said the crystal was in a volcano that was nearby, and Small One thought she remembered there being one in this general area. Maybe. Assuming she was in the desert she thought she was, then she could guess at its location. One desert looked much the same as another, however, so Small One would have to hope for the best.

She stood up and shook out her wings, rumbling at White One and Gentle One to wake up and get a move on. Gentle One lifted his head and blinked blearily, but before he could do anything, White One grabbed him by the back of his armour and dropped him onto her back. She glared at Small One and snorted, as if to make it clear that Small One would not be carrying him again. Small One gave a light snap of her jaws. That was fine by her, to be honest. The responsibility of carrying something so small and fragile was not something she wanted to deal with if she could avoid it.

Gentle One patted the back of White One’s head, then pointed at Small One and made a noise. Small One rolled her eyes at him. Yet again, he assumed she knew what he meant. Going out on a limb, Small One guessed he wanted her to take the lead, and she was happy to oblige. She rocketed off into the sky, enjoying the fact that she didn’t have to worry about dropping anything, and wheeled off in the direction she hoped the volcano was. White One followed behind, her broad wings beating like mad just to keep up.

It was quite surreal to pass from the warm, golden sands of the desert back into the bitter, dark world of the black mist. Small One shivered when she crossed the threshold. The sooner Gentle One worked his magic on the crystals, the better. She allowed her pace to slow as she flew, scanning the ground for something which might be edible. The desert sands had been still and silent, and no matter how loud she screeched, no sand-swimmers or sand-jumpers emerged. Unfortunately, the sunbaked rock they were flying over held no life either, only the putrid corpses of the haze’s victims.

She huffed and caught a thermal, saving her remaining strength. Volcanic regions were always lively, even during times of famine or plague elsewhere. Such hardy creatures would surely be alright even in the midst of the black fog. From her high vantage point, she could see the tips of ridges poking out of the haze. It was another few day’s hard flying until Small One finally spotted what she’d been hoping to see. A dark cloud was rising up into the air ahead, but it was an ashen grey rather than an unnatural black-purple. She allowed a leer to cross her face as she barked back at White One. Hopefully this was the right one.

Gentle One seemed to perk up at Small One’s call, lifting his gaze to the distant pillar of smoke. He cast Small One an odd glance, then gently tapped White One’s shoulder. White One hummed and dashed forward, chiming at Small One as she went past. Small One snorted, easily outpacing the white dragon again. White One really needed to learn that she couldn’t outfly Small One. The two dragons vied for position as they flew, Small One occasionally easing up and letting White One pass her. By now, she was fairly sure that White One was quite a young dragon, despite her size, and wasn’t it nice to let hatchlings think they were strong every now and then?

The game made the flight to the volcano go just a bit quicker, and soon they were flying circles around the blackened cone. Between the ash and the haze, it was impossible to see where anything was, and each breath stung her throat. Despite her best efforts, Small One couldn’t see anything resembling a crystal near the volcano’s base. Gentle One and White One had their heads down too, though they didn’t seem to be having any more luck than she did.

Small One pulled away from them, flying closer to the mountainside to see if she could spot any tunnels. White One seemed to catch on, dipping down and almost dragging her talons along the rocky slopes. After a while, Small One had come to the conclusion that this was either the wrong volcano, or Aberrant One had been lying. She looked around for White One and Gentle One, and just barely managed to catch a glimpse of a white tassel disappearing down a tunnel. Blinking, she dove after White One, wondering what the other dragon had found.

Though the haze filled the cavernous tunnel, the volcano was still very much alive. Runnels of magma coursed through the walls, lighting up the darkness with an eerie glow. The mist didn’t look any friendlier when it was illuminated. In fact, Small One thought she preferred it in the dark. In the dim glow of the magma, the mist looked like it was alive, with reaching claws that tried to grab her. As she walked down the tunnel, Small One beat her wings in an effort to keep the fog away. All she did was swirl it around, but the attempt gave her some comfort nonetheless.

She rushed to catch up with White One, who strode down the tunnel heedless of the haze around her. In the dark, she seemed to shine with a faint light that chased away the darkness around her. Small One just wished she had that sort of protection. Staying next to White One would do for now. Gentle One sat on White One’s back without a care in the world. He leaned back and beamed at Small One, chattering happily to her and taking a bite of something he’d pulled out of his armour. Between the mist and the ash, Small One couldn’t smell what it was, but she still weighed the pros and cons of trying to take it from him.

Before she had time to act on that, White One hummed happily, stepping out into an open cavern. The interior was just as haze-ridden as the tunnel, but the massive magma lake made it look much brighter. White One looked left and right before picking a direction and walking. Small One wasn’t sure whether or not she knew where she was going, but she figured it was best to just follow and hope for the best.

White One did not, in fact, know where she was going. Every time she came to a corridor or branching path, she took it, regardless of where it seemed to lead. Small One lost count of the amount of times they re-emerged into the cavern, frustration mounting the whole time. The one blessing was that White One seemed to retain enough sense to not travel down the same path twice. Even Gentle One looked a bit fed up, wiping his forehead constantly, and taking swigs of some toxic-looking blue liquid every now and then.

Eventually, Small One’s fading patience was rewarded. Down one particularly narrow and winding magma flume, White One managed to find another cavern. It was smaller and dimmer than the one they’d kept getting sent back to, but Small One didn’t much care about that. In the centre of the cavern, lit up on all sides by the molten rock, a familiarly misshapen chunk of rock stood. It seemed Aberrant One had been telling the truth, odd as it seemed. Small One could question the evil dragon’s motives later. For now, she tucked in her legs and sat down to watch White One and Gentle One clean the air.

It wasn’t long before the bright glow suffused the entire cavern. Once again, Small One couldn’t block the light completely, spots lingering in her vision. When the light cleared, the cavern was still just as smoky and sweltering as it was before, but now the air was free of the polluting haze. Pricking her ears, Small One listened to see if any of the volcano’s beasts were alive and making noise. She may have been imagining it, but she thought she heard the faint clacking of a beak in the distance. She huffed. Of course the beak-clackers would still be alive, what with their solid armour and propensity for sneak attacks.

Before she had the chance to ponder whether or not it would be worth trying to hunt one, Gentle One had thrown his arms around her neck in an embrace. She tried to keep herself from stiffening, and failed. Gentle One withdrew and put a hand on the back of his head, mumbling something. He looked up at her, blue eyes sparkling, and laid a much more restrained hand on her side, rubbing circles on her scales. When next he spoke, it was in a soft voice. Small One didn’t know what he was saying, but his rubs felt nice and so she purred for him.

Small One looked at White One, fully expecting to see a scowl or a glare, but the strange dragon was just staring at her contemplatively. Small One tried to will herself to stand up. They had an island to search for, after all. But honestly, after all the flying and searching and the aching in her stomach, she just wanted to sit and rest for a bit before carrying on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Which crystal does Small One look for first? (1 = volcano, 2 = island, 3 = mountain)  
> Small One rolls a 1.
> 
> Is there something Small One can hunt on the way to the volcano? (Luck = 10)  
> Small One rolls a 9 (required 10). Failure.
> 
> Is the volcano’s crystal unguarded? (Luck = 10)  
> Small One rolls a 14 (required 10). Success.
> 
> So I’m back after a longer-than-expected break. Essentially what happened was that I was away for eight days, travelling for two, and resting for another two. Unfortunately, though I tried my best, I couldn’t find the time or energy to do much writing while I was away. The stuff I did come up with was short and badly-written. So I compiled what was worth keeping, did some editing and expanding, and put it into this longer chapter. To give context to exactly how short and bad I’m talking, this whole chapter was originally six chapters. Yeah. Tomorrow’s chapter will be an edited/expanded compilation of the other four short awful chapters. Those ones were a little bit longer and more action packed, so you can hopefully expect something a little heftier tomorrow.
> 
> And yes, before anyone asks, I could have made them all into one very long chapter. I didn’t because the next four are distinct from this one in setting and such. They looked weird, disconnected, and overlong when I crammed them all together, plus I want to refine them a little more before posting them.
> 
> Another side effect of my time away was that I didn’t finish the side story just yet. Part of that is because I didn’t have much time, but also I was working on writing a completely separate story and that was eating my attention. It’s still happening, though, I promise you that. I might post that other story (first chapter titled ‘The Lurker in the Library’) here when there’s more of it, but anyone who wants a sneak peek for now can find it on my Monster Hunter Amino profile, which has the same name as this account: JumpingShinyFrogs. Which you can, if you’d like, use to chat with me, though I’m much more active on Discord.


	75. Purple Storm

Small One’s rest was short-lived. Gentle One chewed on something, took a drink, then started prodding Small One in the side. His stubby claw barely registered through her tough scales, but it was still enough to be annoying. She grumbled a bit as she stood up, stretching out her sore wings. Gentle One had already clambered back up onto White One’s back, gesturing with a hand for Small One to lead. Ignoring the aching in her legs, Small One lead the way back through the tunnel.

Though she didn’t quite remember the way, she was fairly sure she’d figure it out. The tunnels were beginning to come alive with the sounds of hungry monsters, and none of their voices sounded distorted anymore. Small One chuffed to herself. Of course the creatures that could survive in this fiery pit wouldn’t be beaten by a mere cloud of mist. Hopefully she’d be able to sneak up on something and catch herself a meal. The next place they needed to go was to the island, and Small One didn’t want to think about what would happen if she got too hungry along the way.

She kept her steps as light as a giant dragon could as she traversed the cave, silently willing White One to do the same. Unfortunately, White One was about as unsubtle as it got, noisily stamping her feet on the rock with each step. It took a lot of growling and a slow demonstration before the furry dragon understood Small One’s meaning. She still wasn’t very stealthy, but it was better than nothing. After a while of tiptoeing down lava flumes, Small One managed to find her way back to the main cavern.

Her sharp eyes scanned the ground, searching for any disturbances in the rock or the magma’s surface. White One and Gentle One joined her in looking around, though Small One wasn’t convinced they knew what to look for. Every now and then the lava spurted up in geysers, drawing Small One’s gaze. Those weren’t edible, but they could be a sign of something that was.

Sure enough, a patch of rock glowed red-hot just before a small, blunt beak bored its way through and up into the air. The juvenile beak-clacker made its signature clicking noise, looking around. As soon as it spotted the two dragons watching it, it went to dive back into the rock, but Small One didn’t give it the chance. She leapt at it, screeching for good measure. The little serpent squawked, stunned by Small One’s loud voice, just before Small One got her jaws around its middle and bit down as hard as she could. The beak-clacker fell still instantly.

White One watched with head tilted as Small One set about devouring her prey. The juvenile beak-clacker was thin and frail, its ribs visible though its hide. Small One didn’t much care about that, because it was meat and that was all that mattered. More importantly, it bore no traces of the black haze. That was all the cue Small One needed to tear into it with uncharacteristic viciousness. She barely took the time to breathe as she tore chunks of meat free and swallowed them down. The beak-clacker’s bones were too thick for her to crush, even though it was a juvenile, but she still chewed as much flesh as she could from them before tossing them aside.

By the time she was finished, there was absolutely nothing left of the carcass for even the most persistent of scavengers to feed on. White One sniffed at the mangled bones and gave a questioning chime. Small One huffed. If White One wanted prey she could catch her own. The little beak-clacker would stop Small One from starving, but she was still hungry and would happily reduce another small creature to a pile of chewed bones if she could find one. Gentle One looked almost apologetic, garbling something and waving his hand for Small One to carry on.

As Small One followed the tunnel back out to the surface, she kept her eye out for anything else she could ambush. Unfortunately, the rest of the prey seemed to have realised she was there, and had all fallen silent. That was annoying, but Small One wasn’t too concerned. She was no longer at risk of starving, and that was the main thing. Idly, she wondered if White One was hungry. She hadn’t looked for prey, and hadn’t tried to take any of Small One’s kill. Gentle One seemed to have brought his own supply of food, so he was fine, but White One seemed oddly content for a dragon who hadn’t eaten in at least as long as they’d been flying.

That wasn’t Small One’s problem, though. Her main concern was getting the two of them to the next crystal so they could hurry up and fix the world. When they emerged back into the light of the outside world, Small One was pleased to see that most of the air was clear of the black haze. The volcano and the rocks around it were all clean, as was the shimmering golden desert. A cloud of black lingered around the distant mountains, but they’d deal with that later. For now, Small One turned her gaze towards the desert. They needed to cross it yet again, then search the coastline for the island Aberrant One had spoken of.

Fortunately, with the air clear again, Small One now knew where she was. There was no need to blunder around lost, and she managed to lead White One and Gentle One across the desert and back over the open plains without incident and in decent time. Once there, Small One soared over to the sandy shore, landing to watch the waves lap against the sand. White One landed next to her, sniffing at the salty water. Though the sea looked healthy at first glance, closer inspection revealed a faint black tinge to the water. Above the horizon, the haze gathered like a thunderstorm, angrily swirling in the vicious ocean winds.

Small One took a deep breath and steeled herself. She’d been pushing herself hard these last few weeks, but there was no time to rest. This would be the true test. When she flew over land, a crash meant some pain and a chance to sleep. Above the vast and unknowable ocean, to crash would be to die. She held no illusions of a daring rescue by White One. Even if the furry dragon had been fond of Small One, she was much too large and heavy to be carried. Still, she had no way of communicating what she’d learned to White One and Gentle One. And besides, what if they ran into something that could kill them and stop them from clearing the haze? They needed her strength, as a reassurance if nothing else.

Having deemed her rest long enough, Small One shot up into the air, enjoying the strong ocean winds and the free lift they offered. White One didn’t waste any time in following her up, Gentle One pressing himself into her mane against the wind. Small One squinted into the haze and tried to figure out where the island Aberrant One spoke of was. Before long, Small One had left the land far behind, the grey ocean stretching out eternally below her.

Through the clouds of black fog and the uniformity of the sea, it was tough to figure out where everything was, but even the corruption couldn’t mask the splashes as waves crashed over rocks and the shores of small islands. Small One clung to those white sprays as a lifeline, gliding as much as possible to save energy. Whenever she spotted a large breaking wave, she dove down to examine whatever it was breaking on. White One seemed to have figured out what they were looking for, peeling off to do her own investigating.

Small One’s wings were aching, but she forced herself to stay aloft, still searching for the island. Though she flew over plenty of rocks, sea stacks, and chunks of land that could only generously be called ‘islets’, Small One never managed to find the island Aberrant One had spoke of. Perhaps this one truly was a lie, and she had spoken truth before only to get Small One to let her guard down. Small One let that depressing thought rattle around her mind as she searched for some little chunk of rock she could land on to catch her breath.

While she circled, a sound caught Small One’s attention. It was a loud, low hum, coming from somewhere in the fog. Small One pricked her ears to listen to the sound above the waves and the wind. White One was calling her, and it sounded urgent. That meant that she’d probably found the island with the crystal on it. Ignoring the loud complaints from her wings and lungs, Small One caught a gust of wind and flew to where she hoped the humming was coming from. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the blackened shores of an island coming into view.

White One’s blazing silhouette was clearly visible in a blackened valley just past the shoreline, but she wasn’t alone. She was staring down a sea beast, its hide black and eyes red. Its back sparked menacingly with electricity. Neither contender seemed to want to make the first move. Small One snarled as she came in for a landing. This sickened shockspine was getting in the way, and that meant it had to be gotten  _ out  _ of the way.

Small One took a deep breath and focused on the wellspring of power within her. This would be interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is there something Small One can hunt on the way to the island? (Luck = 10)  
> Small One rolls a 17 (required 10). Success.
> 
> Can Small One fly out to the island? (Finesse = 12)  
> Small One rolls an 8 (required 8). Success.
> 
> Is the island’s crystal unguarded? (Luck = 10)  
> Small One rolls a 7 (required 10). Failure.
> 
> There was supposed to be more to this chapter, but I had to teach someone how to use hunting horn and couldn’t refine the next scene enough to be satisfied with in time to post. Sorry!


	76. Ivory Thunder

The shockspine was so focused on White One that it didn’t even notice Small One diving in. She screeched at the top of her lungs, causing the shockspine and White One to glance up at the last second before Small One slammed into the sea serpent like a rocket. The shockspine yelped as it was flung back by her impact, sliding backwards along the ground. To Small One’s annoyance, it seemed unaffected by the thunder she’d cloaked her talons in, though she supposed that was to be expected. She hadn’t quite mastered the art of summoning flames or screams while in the air, and thunder was just the first thing that had happened to flow from her horns.

Gentle One, still sitting on White One’s back, cheered loudly, pointing at the shockspine and shouting something to his dragon. The shockspine didn’t take too long to recover. Now that it had been struck, it was no longer wary of starting a fight. The red of its eyes seemed to intensify as sparks gathered near its mouth, just before it let out a deafening roar. Small One winced and flattened her ears against the distorted sound. She hadn’t often encountered shockspines in her travels, but she was fairly sure they didn’t sound like that.

White One answered its challenge with an echoing roar of her own, the strange chiming quality rebounding off of the walls of the valley. The shockspine lunged forwards with thunder in its jaws, snapping at the closest dragon. Small One hopped into the air with a powerful beat of her wings and swiped with her black-coated claws, raking the shockspine’s snout. The wound was shallow and barely bled, but Small One saw the shockspine’s features briefly contort in pain before the rage returned. White One, having deftly stepped to one side to avoid the bite, suddenly rammed into the shockspine’s side, horns biting into its hide.

The shockspine howled, but didn’t flinch even as White One stabbed its side with her pointed tusks. In one swift movement, it gathered electricity into the once-vibrant blue shells on its back. The current erupted in a blast that travelled straight up White One’s horns and into her face, causing her to pull back and rear up with a cry. Gentle One made some sort of panicked noise just before he tumbled from the dragon’s back. White One barked at him, headbutting the shockspine ineffectually even as the sea serpent funnelled more and more power into its back. Gentle One picked himself up and drew his blade, pointing it at the shockspine.

From her aerial vantage point, Small One watched the shockspine as it suddenly snapped its head back and spat a glob of thunder from its mouth. The electric spit caused a series of small explosions to go off across the ground, coming dangerously close to Gentle One. Fortunately, the hunter was no stranger to battling monsters. Even with the giant blade in his hands, he nimbly rolled out of the blast zone unharmed. Small One narrowed her eyes. Shockspines were capable of producing electricity, but that blast had been too powerful. Even with the corruption's influence making it stronger, it shouldn’t have been able to do that. She took a close look at the shockspine and tried to figure out what it looked like beneath the black fog. Had its hide been blue before, or white?

There wasn’t time to ponder that. The shockspine was already stepping backwards across the ground quickly, spitting lightning too fast for White One and Gentle One to risk getting too close. A sparking ball hit White One dead in the face, but though she yelped, she stayed standing. Small One felt the heat building in her chest. Using fire while in the sky always made her feel like dying afterwards, so she rather reluctantly landed. The shockspine wasn’t paying any attention to her, focused as it was on trying to reduce Gentle One to a smear on the ground.

As soon as her talons touched the ground, Small One let loose with a red-hot fireball. Her attack found its mark right on the shockspine’s back, where the glowing blue shells still sparked menacingly. With a bloodcurdling howl, the shockspine was knocked onto its side, flailing and trying to rub its scorched back on the ground. Small One grinned to herself. It seemed she’d found where it was vulnerable. Gentle One wasted no time in pressing his advantage, dashing up the serpent’s tail and landing a heavy blow with his sword. Small One snorted to herself even as she let the black energy flow into her claws and tried to drown out the scream. What was it with death-prey and wanting to cut off tails?

White One had her mouth hanging open, a blue-white glow building in her throat. Gentle One put away his blade and took off as the shockspine finally hauled itself back up to its feet. The second the sea monster stood up, White One let her light ball loose, straight into the shockspine’s face. It reeled back with a yelp, but immediately roared and coiled itself up, whipping its tail at Gentle One. The hunter was sent rolling across the ground, but Small One only spared him a glance. He looked fine. Instead of focusing on him, Small One pounced at the shockspine’s chest, talons at the ready.

Her claws sliced into the flesh of its chest, leaving deep rents in the soft hide. It barely reacted to the attack, its shell flashing brightly for a split second just before it cloaked itself in electricity with a roar. Small One closed her eyes and weathered the attack, not even trying to escape from the blast. Compared to the agony from her own horns, this was nothing. She just hoped Gentle One wasn’t nearby, because he probably wasn’t as lightning-proof as she was. When the electricity finally faded, the shockspine took a moment to catch its breath.

That was a mistake. The beast suddenly lurched forward with a shriek, and Small One noticed its tail was looking a lot shorter. Gentle One stood with blade in hand looking rather pleased with himself, the severed tail tip lying nearby. The shockspine picked itself back up and snarled at Gentle One, but before it could do anything, a beam of light from above struck it in the back. The electrical current disappeared as the shells lining its back shattered. While it was still flailing from that, Small One leapt into the air and sent a hail of sharp icicles straight into its face all in one swift motion, snapping one of its horns.

Between blade, light, and ice, the shockspine found itself overwhelmed. Small One thought it might try to flee, but instead it just roared louder and charged straight towards Gentle One with teeth bared. Small One supposed that was the haze’s influence. There was no other explanation for why it would keep fighting even with its tail missing and main form of attack shattered. Her horns were urging her to summon a thunderbolt, but she knew that would be even less than useless right now. Gentle One threw himself to one side, just as White One landed and scooped him onto her back.

The shockspine screeched, but dragon and rider were already in the air and out of its reach. Small One watched with head tilted as Gentle One held up his blue stone. Instead of emitting its usual soft glow, the stone was shining like a second sun in Gentle One’s hand. Suddenly, White One’s entire body began to glow, her fur and mane lifting into the air. The blue ends of her tusks were shining with the same radiance as Gentle One’s stone, and Gentle One himself stood proudly on her back with nothing to hold him in place. Small One got the sense she should back off. Immediately. 

That instinct turned out to be correct, as White One suddenly erupted with a light so bright that it sent Small One plummeting from the sky and crashing to the ground in a heap. Through the searing light and the pain of being knocked from the air, Small One heard the shockspine scream and smelled burning flesh. She opened her eyes, but found she couldn’t see anything no matter how much she blinked. She felt Gentle One lay his hand on her side and garble something to her, and heard White One humming, just before their combined footsteps moved off.

It took quite a while for Small One to finally start seeing blurry shapes, and even longer for her to blink the last spots out of her vision. When she did, the valley had been transformed. No longer were the trees withered and the river polluted. Instead, everything was clean and vibrant. The others must have found the crystal while she was blinded. The shockspine lay dead nearby, right in the centre of a perfectly circular patch of charred soil. Though its skin was scorched beyond recognition, Small One thought she could see the remnants of white scales peeking through. No wonder it had been so strong.

With nothing else to do, Small One simply let the peace of the renewed valley wash over her as she waited for the others to return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can Small One defeat the Ivory Lagiacrus? (Element = 7)  
> White One and Gentle One’s help affects Small One’s roll (+5)  
> Small One rolls a 12 + 5 = 17 (required 13). Success.
> 
> I had to look up a lot of elemental weaknesses and hitzones to get this juuuuust right. I never realised Ivory is as weak to dragon as it is to fire. I also never realised how awful its head hitzone is. I’ll have to keep that in mind next time I run an Ivory quest in 3U.


	77. Dark Core

It didn’t take very long for White One and Gentle One to return, both looking rather pleased with themselves. There were a few lingering electrical burns on White One’s face, and Gentle One’s armour looked a little more dented than it had before, but neither looked to be on the verge of dying. Gentle One patted Small One’s side and garbled at her, before climbing onto White One’s back. The thought of flying back across the ocean made Small One want to curl up in a hole and die. Promising herself that she would find a place where the water was warm and sleep there for a year or so once this was all over, she reluctantly stood up and spread her wings.

With the dark haze cleared from the air, Small One could see the mainland on the horizon. It actually wasn’t as far as it seemed, now that they weren’t lost in the fog and searching for the island anymore. The wind above the ocean was strong and easily carried Small One along. White One seemed to be perfectly content to glide along, despite how big and awkward her wings were. Small One huffed. Wings that shape shouldn’t have been so good for soaring.

It didn’t take long for the two dragons to cross over to the mainland, where Small One flopped onto the sand eagerly. There was barely a hint of haze to be found in the air and land, just the faintest black tinge here and there. Gentle One looked at Small One expectantly for a moment, before putting a hand above his eyes and looking around. As soon as he looked up, he froze. Small One followed his gaze and winced. She didn’t think they needed her to show them where the next misshapen rock was. From the peaks of a distant mountain range, the haze was rolling freely, threatening to drown the lands they’d cleansed. Streams of mist flowed down the mountainside like rivers, all seeming to come from one particular peak.

Gentle One stroked White One’s mane and whispered something in her ear. The white dragon chimed and bounded into the air. Small One sighed. No rest for the weary, it seemed. The two of them would probably be fine. They could just summon another one of those scorching flashes of light at whatever challenged them. But Small One wanted to witness it herself, and know that the haze was finally gone. And besides, what if they found something that wasn’t affected by the light? Then they might need fire or ice or thunder, or even screams. Having only had a short break, Small One lazily followed White One up into the air.

The furry dragon seemed completely fine as she happily flew along. There wasn’t a hint of fatigue or hunger in her posture. Even the burns across her face didn’t seem to be causing her any pain. Small One wished she was that durable. She was a strong flier, and could fly for days on end without stopping, but even she had her limits. Multiple days-long flights back to back were pushing her dangerously close to those limits.

The pair of dragons flew across the plains, Gentle One falling asleep with his face buried in White One’s mane along the way. For the most part, things were quiet. Too quiet, Small One noted grimly. The usual cacophonous calls of wyverns were missing, and the land was distressingly free of grazers and pack hunters. The wildlife hadn’t returned yet, it seemed. When they flew past the forest where Small One had been cleansed, Small One peered through the trees to see if she could spot any motion, but there was nothing. She just hoped she’d still be able to catch prey when this was all over.

It was another day’s nonstop flying before the ground began to rise sharply and the air grew colder. Gentle One spent most of that time with a pensive look on his face, staring at the ground and at Small One, or petting White One’s mane and chattering at her. Occasionally, his hand went to his blade, or he pulled out the stone from his armour and examined it. Small One wondered if that was the death-prey equivalent of twitching wings and curling talons. Regardless, it took almost no effort to find the next crystal, just below the mountain’s peak.

It was gigantic, easily twice or even three times the size of all the other crystals Small One had seen. Tumorous growths extended from every inch of its surface, rising into the air in jagged, spiralling masses that crashed into each other and tangled together. It was belching out so much of the black fog that Small One could barely even see her surroundings. Gentle One jumped down from White One’s back, but the force of the black fog nearly forced him to his knees. Small One hissed. It must be bad, if it was affecting a death-prey.

Suddenly, Small One felt her heart begin to race and her breathing grow laboured. No! No, this was not happening again! Snarling, Small One lowered her head and grit her teeth, trying her best to ignore the dimming of her scales. She could feel the haze banging on her will, whispering to her.  _ Destroy the white one and its rider, _ the mist seemed to suggest,  _ you’re stronger than them, and they won’t expect it _ . Red was closing in on the edges of her vision, but still Small One hissed and flailed her head with all her might. The mist had caught her by surprise earlier, but not this time. This time she was ready. She  _ could  _ kill Gentle One and White One. It would probably be easy, if she took them by surprise.

The haze tried to erode her will, whispering all sorts of suggestions, but she ignored it. She kept her breathing as steady as possible, tried to still her racing heart. The fog that writhed around and seeped from between her scales tried to close in, tried to crush her with its terrible grasping claws. Despite herself, Small One whimpered. Even fighting as hard as she could, the mist was slowly but surely winning. She could feel her control slipping, felt the power in her horns growing confused and trying to exist. If she were a lesser beast, she would have fallen already.

_ Kill them _ , the mist seemed to say,  _ you have no choice in the matter, little slave. _

Small One snapped her eyes open with a roar. The mist writhed around her, tried to regain the ground it had just lost, but Small One fought it every step of the way. A lesser beast would have fallen already, but she was  _ not  _ a lesser beast. A lesser beast would have meekly accepted its fate, laid down and died. Small One was no mere beast.

With a roar of effort and a surge of thunder from her horns, Small One pushed the last of the haze away.

She was a dragon, and she would never be a slave again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can Small One fight off the Blight? (Luck = 10)  
> Small One rolls a 20 (required 10). Critical Success!
> 
> There was a massive fly buzzing around my room the whole damn time I was writing this and it was really pissing me off.
> 
> On a more relevant note, that first roll was pure awesome, and I wasn’t expecting it. This chapter is a bit shorter than usual because I felt we’d hit a really solid stopping point. Carrying on would have been kinda awkward, I think.
> 
> Also, on the topic of this story as an animated series, it would be pretty cool. Unfortunately I can’t draw worth a crap, and I know nothing about animating, so it’ll probably never happen.


	78. Black Dread

When Small One shook her head and looked around, her heart sank into a deep pit in her chest. White One stood crouched with her teeth bared, and Gentle One sat on her back glaring up at the crystal. Following their gazes, Small One saw the exact last thing she’d been hoping to see. Yellow crystal eyeballs stared curiously at dragon and rider, the long serpentine neck craning forwards to examine them more closely. The whiplike tail was wrapped around the outgrowth that the black beast was using as a perch.

Aberrant One had arrived.

Small One couldn’t recall seeing her perched there before. Had she always been there, or had she arrived while Small One was fighting off the mist? White One roared, an echoing, chiming sound. Small One almost flinched back at the force of it. White One’s lips were stretched back so much that her gums were visible, her sharp teeth on full display. Small One had never seen the white dragon looking so ferocious, not even when they’d fought in the forest.

**Adorable. I commend your efforts, but fluffy little babies aren’t the most intimidating things around.**

Gentle One stiffened at Aberrant One’s words. Small One imagined he’d never felt anything like it before. The voice was mocking, even more so than usual. Small One hissed, splaying out her wings despite herself. Her scales were crawling all over. Between the mist and the black beast, she wanted nothing more to hide in the smallest hole she could fit into and just stay curled up for a few days. The haze by itself was bad enough. Why did Aberrant One have to fly down now of all times?

White One barked something at Aberrant One, and Gentle One chorused with a shout of his own. The black beast rumbled mockingly.

**You’re going to try and stop me? From doing what, pray tell? This is no way to treat me after I was so kind as to give your little friend directions.**

Gentle One’s eyes widened at that, a confused garble escaping from his mouth. He looked at Small One with a questioning gaze. Small One huffed, wishing she had the necessary garbles to tell him that yes, she had been stupid enough to take directions from an unnatural abomination. Against all logic, they’d turned out to be correct directions, but it still hadn’t been her best decision.

**Little Miss Inappropriate Name is admitting to being stupid. See, aren’t I so nice? I’m translating for you and everything.**

White One screeched, a threatening glow building in the back of her throat. Aberrant One’s amber eyes narrowed, her black wings flaring. Gentle One looked down at his dragon, stroking her mane and chattering soothingly in her ear.

**How rude! You know, I was just going to maim you, but just for that I think I’ll kill you instead.**

At those words, Small One’s thoughts snapped clear. Aberrant One screeched, leaping from her perch and swooping straight towards White One. Small One hissed. Whatever White One had said, the black beast hadn’t liked it. Why, oh why, couldn’t White One have been intelligent and recognised that angering the second most powerful living thing was a bad idea? White One leapt to the side, spitting a glowing orb of light straight into Aberrant One’s side. Aberrant One snarled, a stream of flame flowing from her mouth as she swept her neck towards the white dragon. White One deftly took to the air, avoiding the stream of flame as best she could.

Small One watched the rapidly-escalating situation as it unfolded around her. White One had no idea what she was getting herself into. She was oddly strong, for such a young and fragile-looking dragon. But she was no real match for Aberrant One. Small One willed her legs and wings to move. If White One fell, Gentle One would fall with her, and then who would purge the taint of the black haze? And, perhaps more importantly, the world would lose what seemed like the only death-prey who respected things besides himself and his own kind.

Much as she hated the idea, and wanted to just fly away and hide somewhere, Small One hated the idea of a world choked in darkness even more. Without giving herself time to think about it, she launched herself straight at Aberrant One, slamming into the black beast’s exposed back. Aberrant One lurched forward with a warbling cry, but stayed standing. With a low growl, she turned her head, eyes boring straight into Small One’s soul.

**What an inopportune time for you to grow a spine.**

Quicker than Small One could blink, Aberrant One snapped her jaws shut around Small One’s neck, sharp teeth and unimaginably powerful jaws exerting all their mighty force on her throat. Small One gasped, but her breath would not come. She lashed out with her talons, beat her wings, snapped her jaws, but her vision was growing dark and none of her attacks were connecting. There was no escaping Aberrant One’s iron grip.

**I could kill you right now. All I have to do is put just a little more pressure on your neck and—** **_snap_ ** **. No more Alatreon. But I think it’s funnier to let you live, knowing you’re powerless against me at my weakest.**

With those callous words, Aberrant One tossed Small One, hard. She slammed into the crystal, sharp points digging into her and leaving bleeding holes in her hide. She fell in a crumpled heap near the base of the corrupted crystal. Air flooded her lungs, each breath painful against her mangled windpipe—a windpipe which had come dangerously close to being crushed altogether. Despite all common sense, Small One tried to stand up, ready to pounce at Aberrant One again. Her legs failed her, and her front right leg in particular seemed to be reluctant to respond. A bright flash lit up the sky, and Aberrant One screamed.

Small One tried to stand up again, but it was so hard to breathe. Her legs and ribs were battered and bleeding and her head felt fuzzy. She needed to rest for a minute. Just a minute, that was all. That thought echoed in her mind as her eyelids drifted shut of their own accord.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can Small One work up the nerve to attack Aberrant One? (Luck = 10)  
> Small One rolls a 13 (required 10). Success.
> 
> Can Small One do anything to Aberrant One? (Strength = 12)  
> Small One rolls a 1 (required 8). Critical Failure.
> 
> Ah, I just knew the dice weren’t going to hand out last chapter’s crit success for free. It always seems to go this way, doesn’t it? Get a critical success or fail one chapter and the next one always seems to follow with the opposite. Fate can’t decide whether she loves or hates Small One.


	79. Fresh Wounds

Small One tried to open her eyes, and immediately regretted it. The light filtering through the tree canopy had decided to stab directly into her eyes like a set of claws. Instead, she kept her eyes closed and tried to go back to sleep. Her whole body felt heavy and sickly, and there was a dull ache in her front right leg that just wouldn’t go away. Going back to sleep would probably fix it. For a while, she simply lay on the soft ground, drifting in and out of consciousness. There were far-away sounding noises all around her, some of which she recognised. A soft chiming, and assorted garbles. Every now and then one of the garblers would raise its voice, only to be silenced by a different one. Small One was glad of whoever was shushing the loud voices. The sounds were hurting her head.

Eventually, the light against Small One’s eyelids no longer felt like it was trying to kill her. Slowly, she worked her eyes open, wincing at the brightness. Blinking, she glanced around at the unfamiliar surroundings. This wasn’t where she remembered falling asleep. Instead of the cold, hard stone beneath the tainted crystal, Small One found herself lying on warm, soft leaf litter, in the dappled shade beneath countless tree trunks. She tried to lift her head, but her neck and throat instantly warded her off with a spike of pain. Instead, she settled for awkwardly rolling her head to the left to examine her surroundings. Sure enough, she no longer seemed to be on top of the mountain by the crystal. Instead, she was in a warm, humid forest. One which looked, smelled, and felt completely free of the black haze.

Small One lolled her head to the right, and froze. There was a death-prey sitting cross-legged on the ground, staring at her with wide eyes. It was unarmed, but it wasn’t Gentle One, and it was much too close for Small One’s liking. Small One growled, and the death-prey instantly scrambled to its feet and ran off, chattering the whole way. Hissing at the pain in her throat but doing her best to ignore it, Small One lifted her head and followed the death-prey with her eyes. It ran off, deeper into the trees. Small One snorted and let her head flop back onto the ground. Now the death-prey knew she was there and knew she was wounded, and Gentle One was nowhere to be found. Did he even survive his battle with Aberrant One?

Small One decided to assume he had. Somewhere in the foggy mess that made up her memories of the past few days, she remembered hearing White One chiming. With how ridiculously overprotective White One was, Small One couldn’t imagine her letting her fragile little death-prey die. Perhaps they’d been the ones to bring her to this forest. Had they somehow managed to avoid being killed by Aberrant One? Or, even more unbelievably, had they actually won the battle?

Rustling branches snapped Small One from her thoughts. Struggling, she tried to lift her head back up to look, but a familiar garble instantly set her at ease again. Gentle One strode up to her, crouching down next to her face. He had shed his armour, and was wielding a different blade. It looked as though he’d groomed himself recently, with his shaggy brown mane no longer resembling a bush. Small One didn’t like the look of the blade slung over his shoulder. It was a deep, unsettling shade of black. When she looked away, it seemed to writhe in the corner of her eye. It  _ smelled  _ wrong too. In fact, it smelled distressingly similar to Aberrant One and Twisted One. Small One felt her jaw slacken.

She hadn’t thought it was possible to be so impressed and disappointed at the same time.

If the blade really  _ was  _ made out of Aberrant One’s corpse, then it was a true testament to his and White One’s strength that he’d even been able to make it in the first place. One the other claw, Small One could not believe that Gentle One could be so stupid as to make a weapon out of something so obviously  _ wrong.  _ Surely even he could feel how the air itself seemed to warp around the black beast. Smell the despair of her many victims, see the pure evil locked within the glowing crystal eyes.

Gentle One must have followed her gaze, because he drew the blade and placed it on the ground in front of her face. Small One winced. There was no mistaking the muddled scent of blood and metal. That was Aberrant One, alright. Gentle One ran his hand along the flat of the blade, chattering softly. Despite herself, Small One rolled her eyes. He  _ still  _ hadn’t quite figured out that she didn’t know what he was saying. Still, his tones were soothing. Small One couldn’t bring herself to protest when he slung the blade back over his back and began running his hand along the base of her horns. His touch was soft and reassuring, in a way that almost reminded Small One of Bold One’s grooming from so long ago.

For a while, he simply sat there, stroking Small One while murmuring softly. Small One wasn’t sure whether it was to her or to himself. Small One just lay there and let herself be petted. Eventually, though, her scales started itching where she was lying on the damp soil. Her legs were twitching, which meant it was time to get up. Working her stiff muscles, Small One got her legs beneath her and pushed to stand up.

Mistake. She fell back to the ground with a shriek, her right leg shooting up and down with pain. Gentle One was at her side in an instant, his chatters urgent but attempting to be calming. Small One hissed and glared at the offending leg, the pain in her neck nothing compared to the agony of trying to stand up. Her leg was wrapped in a soft white covering, a sturdy wooden branch woven into the wrapping. Vaguely, Small One remembered something similar being used to heal her injured wing, so very long ago. Gentle One pointed at the covering and began shaking his head and miming biting. Small One huffed. She was smart enough not to pull at it, even as bulky and inconvenient as it was.

With her leg in that state, there was no way she was going anywhere. How would she hunt down prey, or find water? As if he’d read her mind, Gentle One suddenly shouted into the trees. A death-prey hatchling, small and soft and terrified-looking, stepped out from behind a particularly large tree trunk. It held a bucket in its hands, water sloshing over the side. It rushed up to Gentle One, but stopped short, as if it had only just realised that Small One was there. Small One cocked her head. Gentle One looked at her, as if he was trying to figure her out.

Then, keeping his eyes firmly on Small One, he beckoned to the hatchling to come closer. It did so, and as it did Small One could smell that it was a female. Her steps were shaky, and her eyes wide and fearful, but she still kept walking. When she was as close to Small One as she dared to get, the hatchling dropped the bucket and dashed behind Gentle One, peeking over his shoulder. Small One crooned softly, dipping her snout into the offered water. The bucket was a little bit far away and hard to reach, but the water did wonders for her dry mouth and sore throat.

The hatchling watched her with eyes sparkling, Gentle One chattering softly. Soon, the hatchling emerged from behind his back, sitting on the ground next to him and simply staring at Small One. Small One stared right back, examining the little hatchling. She still seemed to be afraid of Small One. As well she should be—the hatchling was little compared to Gentle One, and absolutely tiny compared to Small One. But still, the fear was tempered with curiosity.

As Small One drank, the hatchling began chattering, both to Gentle One and Small One. Gentle One responded every now and then with a laugh, occasionally pointing at Small One and whispering something in the hatchling’s ear. The pain in Small One’s leg lessened to acceptable levels as time went on, until she was comfortable enough ignoring it to lay her head back down and try to sleep, hatchling’s eyes still on her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How severe are Small One’s injuries? (/10)  
> Small One rolls a 7.
> 
> Has Gentle One convinced his people not to bother Small One? (Luck = 10)  
> Gentle One rolls a 13 (required 10). Success.
> 
> Another short one tonight, unfortunately. Not because I hit a good stopping point, but just because I was busy tonight and didn’t have time.
> 
> For this chapter, I really wish I could dip into other characters’ perspectives just so you’d all get a bit more context for what’s going on and what happened. Ah well, that’s what the side story is for. That’s still happening, by the way. It’s just been delayed because I scrapped the original chapter I had been writing for it. I didn’t like how it was turning out. This is what happens when I don’t do stuff daily. I procrastinate, and then I decide that I actually didn’t like what I was writing and get rid of it.
> 
> Instead, the first chapter will probably be from the perspective of the kind master, the lady who helped Small One during her time in the tower. And thanks to the way the dice has worked out these last few chapters, there’ll probably be a Redan chapter too just to tie up some loose ends.


	80. Making Peace

Small One spent quite a while in the shade of the forest, forced to remain in one spot as her leg mended. Food and water were brought out to her by Gentle One and White One, or rarely, some other death-prey. On occasion, the hatchling would come with them, clinging to Gentle One’s sleeve and staring at Small One with wide eyes. The hatchling had the same blue eyes as Gentle One, and a long mane that was just a few shades of brown lighter than his. Perhaps she was his hatchling? If so, Small One didn’t think he was doing a very good job of taking care of her. Parents weren’t supposed to bring their hatchlings within biting range of large, dangerous predators. Still, some part of Small One was pleased at the idea that Gentle One trusted her enough to bring his hatchling out to see her.

The hatchling steadily grew more confident around Small One as days and weeks went by. She spent less time hiding behind Gentle One, and crept closer to Small One each time she had a bucket of water or food to deliver. Some nights, the hatchling would come alone, glancing around furtively. Small One suspected she wasn’t supposed to be coming out on her own. The little hatchling even worked up the nerve to gently stroke Small One’s sides. Small One could have snapped at her for getting too close and for being foolish enough to come alone and unarmed, but she didn’t. The hatchling hadn’t bothered her, and Small One didn’t think she would. To kill her would be both pointless and an outstanding way to ruin Gentle One’s odd compassion towards dragons.

After a few weeks had passed, Small One found she could stand up, if she kept as much weight as possible off of her broken leg and moved slowly. Her first few steps were painful and clumsy, muscles protesting after going unused for so long. It didn’t take her very long to warm herself back up, padding around in circles between the trees. When Gentle One and his hatchling came to visit that day, Gentle One clapped his hands together, the hatchling mimicking him. To Small One’s surprise, the hatchling suddenly rushed up to her and embraced her uninjured leg, short arms barely even reaching halfway around. Gentle One froze, and Small One didn’t miss the flash of fear in his eyes.

Small One snorted softly, gently nudging the hatchling away with her snout. Gentle One needn’t have worried. The hatchling had been kind and courteous thus far. Maybe she would have been cruel and callous, in another time, but that time was a century and a half ago. The hatchling looked up at Small One (and had to lean back so far she nearly fell over) and chattered. Small One quirked her head. Gentle One garbled something, looking right at Small One as he did. Small One huffed. Perhaps they were asking her something? It wasn’t like she’d be able to answer.

Gentle One barked something at the hatchling, who rushed back to him with one final chirp at Small One. The pair began to make their ways through the trees. Small One stood for a moment, right foreleg lifted. Now that she could move, she was free to leave. All she had to do was hobble beneath some open air and take off. But with her leg in this state, hunting would be difficult and landing would be excruciating. She glanced back to the spot where she’d spent the past few weeks lying about and being bored. No, she didn’t want to go back to that.

With nothing else to do, Small One limped her way through the trees, following Gentle One and his hatchling. With her injury, her pace was frustratingly slow, but at last she came to a large clearing. It wasn’t a natural clearing. The trees had been removed by the death-prey, who lived in the assorted nests that now took up the forest floor. As soon as Small One broke into the clearing, the death-prey who had been shuffling about froze. Every head turned to look at her. At once, death-prey scrambled to get into their nests. Small One rolled her eyes. Really, she wasn’t sure what she had been expecting.

She made her way into the centre of the colony and looked around. The homes were simple, made of sturdy wood and reinforced with stone. She could have knocked them down without too much trouble, but if this was where Gentle One lived, he would probably get annoyed if she did that. Instead, Small One chose to mess with something else—the furry white lump snoozing peacefully on the outskirts of the colony. White One hadn’t seemed to realise that anything was wrong, sleeping without any hint that she had been disturbed. Small One leered over her for a moment before nipping her on the snout.

White One snapped to attention, humming loudly. As soon as she saw Small One, her eyes narrowed. Small One chirped cheekily before settling herself next to the younger dragon. White One grumbled, but didn’t make any motions to try and scare Small One off. For a while, Small One sat there, ignoring the pain in her leg. White One put her head back down on her paws and tried to go back to sleep. Though she was once again forced to sit down helplessly and wait for someone to feed her, Small One could appreciate the change of scenery.

After a while, the death-prey began to trickle back out of their homes, all keeping wary eyes on Small One as they went about their business. Several hatchlings crept up to the two resting dragons, shuffling around awkwardly at a distance. From the way they were staring, Small One figured they were here to bother White One. Small One crooned, but the hatchlings resumed their milling about and didn’t come any closer. She huffed. Well, it was about time to stand up anyway. Wincing at the complaints from her leg, Small One hauled herself to her feet and limped away from White One. Several of the more skittish death-prey bolted back into their nests, but most settled for staring and readying themselves to run if need be.

With nowhere else to go, Small One sat down right in the middle of the colony. Again, the death-prey kept their eyes on her, before gradually returning to what they were doing before. Small One took some small pleasure in watching them go to extreme lengths to avoid walking past her. One male walked the entire perimeter of the colony just so he wouldn’t have to walk in front of her. White One, meanwhile, had been rather rudely awoken by the hatchlings. She lay flat on the ground with a resigned look in her eyes as hatchlings clambered all over her, tugging at her mane and trying to walk on her horns. Small One chuffed at the sight, earning herself a glare from White One.

One door opened, and Small One spotted the familiar brown-maned hatchling emerging. At the sight of Small One settled in the village square, the hatchling squealed and rushed out, stopping just short of latching on in another embrace. Several of the adult death-prey gawked at her, but the hatchling took no notice, cheerfully patting Small One’s sides and chattering away. Small One crooned softly. After a while, the hatchling ran over to White One, stroking the furry dragon’s mane and angrily garbling at all the other hatchlings. White One responded with a loving nuzzle, nearly knocking the hatchling over with her snout.

Small One watched that proceed with mild interest before she laid her head down on her legs. The small amount of walking she’d done had thoroughly tired her out. She’d need to rebuild the strength in her legs and wings once her leg was healed. For now, she tried to nap, feeling safe in the knowledge that the death-prey that scurried all around her wouldn’t harm her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does Small One’s broken leg heal without leaving a mark? (Luck = 10)  
> Bad break affects Small One’s roll (-2)  
> Small One rolls a 2 - 2 = 0 (required 10). Failure.
> 
> Time for a nice game of ‘Why did Shiny miss a day this time?’. There’s no fancy explanation here, I was just too tired to write after a day spent travelling. I tried, and the result was awful. So I figured I’d take the night off and spare you my exhausted drivel. Kind of a slow chapter for tonight, but I think it’s an important one as far as character growth goes.
> 
> We’re nearly done with this arc. This whole Stories section has been interesting to write, just because so little is known about the Black Blight. You wanna know all the info I had to work with?
> 
> -The Blight is a natural phenomenon that occurs in small areas every now and then but sometimes gets out of control.
> 
> -The first Blight outbreak nearly swallowed the entire world, but Redan (the first Rider) and Versa Pietru (the first monstie) used their Kinship to stop it.
> 
> -The Blight was first caused by something called the Black Dread, speculated to be a Fatalis.
> 
> -But also the Blight happens when Kinship between a monstie and Rider is tainted.
> 
> That’s no less than three different, contradictory explanations for what causes the Blight. I kinda tried to integrate them all together along with some extrapolation of established Fatalis lore, and a dash of headcanon. Not sure how well I did.


	81. Parting Ways

Small One found the centre of the death-prey colony to be much more exciting than her old spot in the forest. While the residents never quite got as friendly with her as Gentle One and his hatchling, they gradually learned to comfortably ignore her presence. They were actually quite fascinating things to watch, when they weren’t out bringing death and destruction to the lands of dragons. They would stand around awkwardly in clusters and communicate with one another. Hatchlings would mime attacking one another with wooden sticks. Occasionally, one would drop whatever it was carrying, leading to a miniature disaster that needed to be cleaned up.

Gentle One had initially been rather surprised to come back to his village and find Small One taking up the square like she owned the place, but he quickly adapted. He would return from the forest and toss her slabs of meat from whatever he’d preyed on (after taking the choicest cuts for himself, of course). The hatchling would proudly deliver buckets full of water to Small One, chattering and smiling the whole time. Small One would stand up and limp after her, watching as the other hatchlings stared in a mix of terror and wonder. 

With each day that passed, Small One’s leg grew stronger, until the day came when Gentle One examined the limb, and carefully undid the binding. When the soft white covering and stick fell away, Small One carefully examined and sniffed at her leg. There were no hints of the rot that occasionally took hold of open wounds, nor did her bones appear to have healed in odd ways. There was a noticeable bulge in her scales where the bone had been broken and healed, but Small One suspected that couldn’t be avoided. There was a similar, much smaller lump on her left side from long-healed ribs, and an even smaller one on her right wing. Testing her weight, Small One was pleased to discover only the slightest twinge of pain with each step.

She opened her wings and shook them out. With her wound healed, there was no reason to hang around the death-prey any longer. Gentle One stared up at her and murmured something softly, his hatchling cocking her head. Even White One loped up to chime something at Small One. Small One huffed. She still didn’t know what she was being asked, if they were even asking a question. Gentle One set his mouth in a thin line, then suddenly ushered his hatchling back into their nest. He quickly leapt up onto White One’s back, then curled his fingers in a gesture that Small One had learned meant ‘come here’.

Crooning softly, Small One followed after dragon and rider. She could leave now, but there was no rush. Gentle One seemed to have something to show her, in any case. The pair lead her deep into the forest, away from the dull murmur of the colony. The tree trunks widened as they went along. Some of the trees here were truly massive. Small One suspected they had been among the rare few spared Twisted One’s wrath during the war. One particular tree stretched high into the heavens, with a trunk so wide that Small One thought even Fearless One might have trouble uprooting it. It was near the roots of this great tree, surrounded by gigantic roots, that Gentle One slid from White One’s back.

He walked over to a huge, clumsy looking wall constructed of hastily-assembled boulders. Small One cocked her head at the sight. It looked as though the barrier was still being refined, if the scattered tools and huge slabs of stone were anything to go by. Gentle One rested his hand on the wall and garbled, gesturing to the evil sword he still carried at his back. Small One strode up to the barrier and sniffed at it. Sure enough, the air leaking through the gaps smelled of blood and metal, alongside a hint of rot. Was Aberrant One beyond the barrier?

Gentle One looked around suddenly, whistling. Small One glanced around, but couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Then the prickling of electricity on her scales made itself known, growing stronger and stronger until a bolt from the heavens left a softly-glowing mystical one-horn in its wake. White One startled at the sound of thunder, narrowing her eyes at the newcomer. Small One studied Gentle One carefully. Would he attack the one-horn, or vice versa? A one-horn was a creature of peace, one that precious few dragons would willingly fight against. They were, however, not overly fond of death-prey, and Small One wasn’t sure that a hunter could resist the allure of battle.

Small One needn’t have worried. The one-horn trotted up to Gentle One, allowing him to stroke its snout and run his hand through its mane. He chattered something to it, pointing to Small One. Small One perked her ears as the one-horn suddenly turned to her and began neighing. Of course! One-horns could speak to all. Apparently, that extended to death-prey too. The Kirin happily translated Gentle One’s message for Small One. He informed her that Aberrant One’s corpse was enshrined beyond the rock wall, and that the seal would soon be reinforced and left under the watchful guard of a one-horn. Gentle One wished to take such precautions because he wasn’t entirely sure that Aberrant One was dead.

That didn’t surprise Small One. Aberrant One had apparently been reborn from Twisted One’s heart. It only followed that she could rise from the dead too. Small One opened her mouth to give the one-horn a response, but the one-horn cut her off with a whinny. Apparently, Gentle One had something to give her. Small One blinked, watching as Gentle One reached into a thicket of tangled thorns and withdrew a box. He walked up to Small One and placed the box at her talons, undoing the clasp as he did so. Curious, Small One nosed the box open.

Instantly, she drew her head back in revulsion. Within the box was a heart, and it was still beating even without blood to pump. Small One didn’t need to scent it to know whose heart it was. She barely even registered the one-horn carrying on in his explanation. The one-horn informed Small One of what Gentle One wished for her to do. He wanted her to find a way to destroy the heart, because he himself could not and White One couldn’t either. Failing that, he wanted her to find a safe place to hide it, where it would never be found again.

Small One didn’t want to touch the heart. It was  _ wrong _ , a severed heart should not keep beating. But she owed Gentle One, much as she didn’t want to admit it. He had freed her from the haze, and he had gone on to free the rest of the world too. If he was making this request of her, she wasn’t really in a position to refuse. Sighing, Small One dipped her head and grasped the heart in her jaws. It was stone cold, sticky with metallic blood. Each writhing beat made Small One want to drop it a little bit more, but she kept her grip as firm as she could.

Gentle One smiled weakly, chattering something up at Small One. She heard the familiar  _ Alatreon  _ garble, and it occurred to her that Gentle One didn’t know the name she had appointed herself so long ago. He couldn’t have known, but with the one-horn here, he could. Growling around the heart, Small One asked the one-horn to tell Gentle One two things: that her name was Small One, and she wished to thank him. She heard the one-horn neigh her message back to him. 

Gentle One smiled, then pointed a finger to himself. He made a single noise, slow and deliberate, repeating it over and over again while pointing to himself.  _ Re-dan _ . Two short, simple sounds, but Small One found her throat couldn’t wrap itself around either of them. What was  _ Re-dan _ ? Was that Gentle One’s true name? Next, he pointed to White One and made a series of other garbles. No matter how she tried, Small One couldn’t wrap her mind or jaws around these ones. White One was a much better name for the furry dragon than whatever death-prey noises Gentle One had come up with.

Small One shook her head, then glanced around the canopy. Sunlight was beaming down in a shaft nearby. That would be her point to take off and find a way to deal with this heart. She turned, wings fanning open to leave. A shout from Gentle One gave her pause for a moment. She turned back. The one-horn quickly translated for her. Gentle One was asking if she would return to the village once she was done with the heart.

Small One didn’t give it much thought before answering with a rather firm no. She was a nomad through and through. All she wanted was to fly to Bold One’s island and Clever One’s forest and ensure that they were still alive. After that, well, who knew where the wind would take her? But… she knew where this colony was, now. The death-prey within hadn’t harmed her in all her time spent among them. So perhaps she might find it in herself to drop by every now and then. And when some other death-prey inevitably earned her ire, she’d be sure to spare this particular settlement.

Gentle One seemed saddened by her stark refusal, but he mustered a smile and a wave as Small One took off with heart still clasped firmly in jaws. As soon as Small One broke through the trees and into the open air, she whooped with joy. After so many weeks spent in the dim dampness of the forest, the sky felt like it was embracing her and welcoming her back. Thermals pushed her high into the sky, and strong tailwinds spurred her forwards. All around, the land seemed pure once more. The black haze was a distant memory.

There was just one last thing to do before the nightmare could truly be over. The heart thrummed with energy as it beat in Small One’s jaws. Somehow, she knew she wouldn’t be able to do any lasting damage to it with teeth and talons, or even with her horns. The idea of simply swallowing it briefly crossed her mind, before she decided she didn’t want to find out what would happen if the black beast tried to return to life after being eaten. 

Instead, Small One flew, out of the forest and across the plains, out above the vast, unknowable sea. The sea was a force more powerful than any other. Even Twisted One had never managed to visit his personal brand of destruction on it. If the sea could conquer any dragon, then surely it could conquer the heart of one. When Small One had flown so far across the water that the mainland was little more than a dot on the horizon, she opened her mouth and let the foul heart fall down into the churning black waters below.

The resulting splash was the most distinctly musical thing she had ever heard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m kind of sick today, so forgive any drops in quality. Also GDocs crashed like seven times while writing this. In today’s chapter, you kind of get to see where the idea of Kirin as being able to speak to anyone came from. I actually got the idea from an episode of the Stories anime where a Kirin speaks to Lute. That anime episode also influenced my perception of Kirin. It shows the Kirin as almost being a minor deity, with the way it talks about the nature of existence and its place in it. Interesting stuff, and it didn’t happen in the game at all.
> 
> This chapter marks the end of the adolescence section. We can now get along into the third and final act: adulthood. Depending on dice rolls and how long I manage to make each chapter, I’d say we’re looking at 30 or more chapters before the story is over.


	82. One Thousand Years

When the heart sank below the waves, Small One wasted no time in flying as far away as possible from it. It was gone now, devoured by the great beast that was the sea. Buoyed by that thought, Small One let the wind carry her back to the lands she’d spent so long flying over, now clean and pure and free of haze. She didn’t even need to think about where she was going. She already knew. The coastline spread out before her, until the time came to glide out across the waves again and towards a familiar volcanic isle.

Small One wasted no time in scouring the familiar caverns. The silence was deafening compared to the usual constant din of fire beasts and wyverns. Small One would have to quash her hopes that the haze had never reached this place. For a while, she wandered around her friend’s favourite napping spots and hunting grounds. Just when cold dread started to settle itself in her gut, Small One caught sight of a blue tail tuft disappearing around a corner. She bellowed out a joyous cry, chasing after Bold One.

Within seconds, the familiar scarred face was peeking back around the corner. Bold One’s eye lit up, and she rushed up to Small One with a happy croon. Small One leaned down and nuzzled Bold One. The firemane looked a little worse for the wear, with mane askew and fresh wounds covering her scales. But there was no gleam of madness in her eyes, nor tinge of black. Bold One sniffed at Small One’s fresh-healed leg with a questioning growl. Small One gave a rather curt summary, and Bold One quickly figured out she didn’t want to talk about it.

Small One spent a few weeks in Bold One’s territory. Prey was scarce in the wake of the black haze, but with two dragons working together, they were easily able to hunt enough to keep them both satisfied. In moments between hunts, the pair lay together, grooming and resting and swapping tales of the haze. Bold One was just as astonished as Small One to learn that there were death-prey who treated dragons as equals. She seemed equally intrigued to learn of White One, the strange furry dragon. Bold One too had never seen or heard tell of any dragon like White One, though she seldom left her volcano these days.

Eventually, Small One felt she had sufficiently assured Bold One’s safety. Bidding a fond farewell, she spread her wings and bounded off into the sky, heading straight for the ever-growing tangle that Clever One called home. Once there, she had to wander through the undergrowth for quite a while before she finally found him. Or, rather, he found her. While she tried to bash her way through a particularly tough cluster of plants, a faintly shimmering outline slunk up to her with a happy chirp. Clever One looked to be in good spirits, with minimal injuries.

Small One was quick to strike up a conversation with him. He had managed to evade the haze, somehow. Small One found that no amount of pressing could get him to explain how. He was most curious about Aberrant One seemingly rising from the dead. Idly, he mused to himself that perhaps the ocean wasn’t enough to contain such a powerful force. Small One growled at that. That wasn’t something she wanted to hear right now. The heart was gone, done with. It would never return again.

When Small One felt she was done in the constricting maze of Clever One’s home, she took off once more. This time, she had no particular destination. The wind would take her where it would, and she would simply go along for the ride. She let herself be carried off to the distant misty mountaintops, where she faced off with the glowfurs and flew alongside the sky-swimmers. From there, she dove to the icy world where the beak-clackers and cave-spitters roamed free. And so on, until she had once more crisscrossed the entire continent and left her footprints all across the realm.

Ten years passed, and the beasts and wyverns returned as though they had never left. A hundred years later, and entire swathes of death-prey marched in battle against one another, slaughtering each other for no reason that Small One could see. Gentle One’s village seemed to stay out of the conflict. Small One dropped in on them frequently. They always seemed surprised but not upset to see her. Gentle One and White One came out to greet her, accompanied by the hatchling. Until the day came when the hatchling, now an adult in her own right, emerged alone and shook her head softly. White One was absent then, and Small One wondered if perhaps she had followed her rider to his death.

When the death-prey were finished killing each other, Small One found the clusters of survivors banding together in small groups, accompanied by the small furry two-legs that Small One often saw hunting in packs together. Perhaps the two species had formed an alliance of some sort. It didn’t much concern Small One as long as the furred ones didn’t start capturing dragons in droves. Small One let them go about their business, although on occasion a group would come at her in search of glory. It was a simple task to shatter their defenses and rip them apart for daring to attack her.

Another hundred years, and the last lingering echoes of Twisted One’s conquest had finally faded away. The death-prey seemed to be trying to establish a particularly large settlement near the ruins of an old war fort. Every wyvern and dragon for miles around seemed to have taken it upon themselves to try and destroy it. To Small One’s surprise, the death-prey seemed to be holding their own against the assault. They’d managed to get their paws on several old weapons from the wartimes, which they employed to great effect against their attackers. Small One had taken one look at that escalating situation and decided it wasn’t worth it. Unless they attacked her, she’d be leaving them alone.

As time passed, the world changed. Death-prey established stronger settlements, began crossing the world. Gentle One’s village gradually fell apart, left abandoned, but the death-prey has learned from his example. All around the world, tiny villages of death-prey who lived peacefully alongside monsters had cropped up. Small One was quite happy to leave them be. They seemed to be sticking to Gentle One’s teachings even long after he was dead and gone. The other death-prey didn’t seem to want much to do with them, but Small One was quite happy to drop down on them and startle them.

Bold One managed to keep her iron control of her territory, even as the years wore on and challengers came for her title. Small One was rather surprised when, on one visit, she found herself face-to-face with a furious red firemane. Small One had been ready to pull his head off, until Bold One had stepped in and lightly snapped at the air between them to break up the fight. Small One had complained bitterly the entire time she was being introduced to Bold One’s newfound mate. When Bold One told them to play nice, they both immediately snarled at one another and curled their talons. Bold One gave a long-suffering sigh before dragging Small One off to make sure her new and old family didn’t slaughter each other.

Subsequent visits to the realm of the firemanes were rather tense. Small One never did adapt to the male’s presence, and he likewise never became comfortable with her random breaches of his territory. Bold One was the sole reason they didn’t murder one another. Small One did enjoy playing with the cubs, on the rare occasions that Bold One had them and the male was willing to let her get close to them. They were small and fragile and precious, and not for the first time, Small One wished there was a male of her own kind. Every year, without fail, her scales would flush purple and the urge to build a nest would strike. No matter how she tried to tell herself that she couldn’t find a mate, her body would insist she try. Those were trying times.

Small One had to put up with her impossible desires for over a thousand years, trying to live her life around them. She followed the call in a vague hope of perhaps happening upon a male she had just missed over the centuries. But that was an impossible dream. So instead, Small One lived her life as best she could, dealing with surprises as they came and waiting for the next great event to find her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hidden Roll from chapter 77: Has Clever One survived the Blight outbreak? (Luck = 10)  
> Clever One rolls a 10 (required 10). Success.
> 
> Hidden Roll from chapter 77: Has Bold One survived the Blight outbreak? (Luck = 10)  
> Bold One rolls a 16 (required 10). Success.
> 
> Big ol’ timeskip to kick off this arc. I think we’ve hit Maximum Timeskip at this point.
> 
> Posted late tonight because I was chatting with friends. Writing and speaking at the same time is hard.


	83. A Strange Omen

The dawn greeted Small One gently, and she immediately snapped her head up and sniffed at the air. The thin air of the misty mountains was fresh and clean. No haze, and no black beasts. There were no threats nearby that she could smell (not that anything short of another dragon could be a threat to her now). But something felt odd, and she was determined to find out what. Last time something had felt strange, hundreds of years ago by now, the entire world was swallowed up under the black haze. If something like that was going to happen again, she would like to know so she could fly away from it. Quickly.

She stood up and trotted out from beneath the hollow she’d been sleeping in. The mountains were the picture of serenity. Mist lazily drifting along the slopes, trees in full bloom, and the river slowly meandering its way along. Nothing out of the ordinary. Small One wasn’t buying it.  _ Something  _ was happening, she just didn’t know what. Focusing on her surroundings, Small One tried to pinpoint the source of the strange feeling. It wasn’t anything she could smell, and nothing looked off. Her horns weren’t acting up, but it was the act of searching within herself that finally brought her to the answer.

Deep within her very being, she could feel a slight  _ tugging _ . It wasn’t painful. As a matter of fact, Small One found she didn’t notice it unless she was actively feeling for it. But it was there, and now that Small One knew what it was, she could figure out if it was something dangerous. She gave her scales a cursory glance. The purple glow was absent, so it wasn’t an unusual manifestation of the desire to mate. She hadn’t thought it was, but it was best to check. Small One huffed. She needed more information, and that meant it was time to investigate whether or not the local wyverns and beasts were suffering.

It didn’t take long for Small One to find a bubblefin, sleeping peacefully on the riverbank. As far as she could tell, there was nothing wrong with it. It snoozed without a care in the world, bubbles rising into the air and popping every now and then. Small One hoped for its sake that the local death-prey didn’t rush out to resume hunting as soon as she flew away. A village had established a foothold in the mountains, but its residents were smart enough to hide when Small One came around. The local monsters didn’t seem to suffer much for their presence, so Small One was willing to give them the benefit of the doubt.

The bubblefin was fine. Perhaps the odd feeling was restricted to Small One alone? In that case, Small One had no idea what to do. Though she had long since come to terms with the idea that she would never fully understand herself, she still found herself growing annoyed at this latest oddity. She had thought she had a fairly solid grasp on her own workings after more than a thousand years, but apparently not. Sitting back on her haunches, Small One pondered her options. She could curl back up and ignore the tugging sensation until it went away. It barely took a second for her to banish that thought. Now that she knew it was there, she was annoyingly aware of it. It would drive her mad as the days wore on, she could tell.

The other choice would be to follow it. Perhaps if she flew wherever her heart seemed to want her to go, the feeling would go away and she could resume her wandering. Small One took to the air and flew a few experimental circles. It didn’t take her very long to rule out that possibility. The pulling didn’t change in intensity when she flew in certain directions. It was just too subtle for her to notice any real changes. That just left one final choice: ask someone for help. Bold One and Clever One were both still alive and just as sharp as they’d always been, though they’d both slowed down over the years.

Unfortunately, they lived in wildly different places. Small One would have to choose who to seek advice from first. Clever One was always the smartest of the three. He figured things out that no one else could. Small One imagined that if she sat down with him and answered his inevitable list of questions, he might be able to puzzle out an answer. At the same time, though, he didn’t have anywhere near enough tact or patience for this sort of thing. Small One could just imagine her attempting to explain the vague feeling, and him becoming frustrated at her lack of precision and inability to answer his questions.

No, for this problem, Small One felt a little more emotion was in order. Patience and a willingness to deal with  _ feelings  _ rather than real things had always been Bold One’s specialties. The firemane had only grown more patient over time, perhaps due to dealing with cubs and a mate who seemed to hate everything except for Bold One herself. Small One would just have to sidestep the male while she was there. Or maybe this could be the visit where she finally got the chance to pull his head off. After all, there hadn’t been cubs for Small One to play with in decades. Bold One didn’t need him anymore, did she?

With mind made up, Small One beat her wings and leapt into the air, riding the mountain winds towards the coast. Not for the first time, Small One considered flying across the sea. That one-horn had promised a verdant paradise lay beyond, so long ago. In all her centuries of wandering, Small One had never flown further than Bold One’s island. At first it was because she didn’t think she could cross safely, but that wasn’t a concern anymore. Her wings were broad and powerful, with toned muscles. She could fly for days on end if need be, and there were winds above the ocean that made flying even easier.

No, these days, Small One avoided the sea because, loathe as she was to admit it, it  _ frightened  _ her. The churning water and swirling currents looked like a vast field of death to her. When she flew above the waves, she could swear they called out to her, inviting her to land on the surface and sink to the depths. The waves seemed to reach out like grasping claws, just waiting to drag her down into the water’s cold embrace. The whole ocean felt  _ wrong _ . Perhaps the sea had been twisted by consuming Aberrant One’s heart so long ago. Whatever it was, it frightened Small One, and she would avoid it her whole life if she could.

It didn’t take long for Small One to reach Bold One’s island. It never did. She knew the fastest way to get there no matter where she was in the world, and she would happily forgo food and water if it meant she would get there quicker. Still, it took a few days to fly out to the smoking island. As soon as she touched down, Small One set about her usual routine of meticulously searching the caverns and calling out for Bold One.

Small One started to get a sinking feeling in her gut when she made a full check of the island and didn’t happen upon Bold One or her mate. Her calls went unanswered, rebounding off of the tunnel walls. That wasn’t right. Occasionally, one of the two would leave the island on a hunting trip or even just to take a break from their volcanic home, but they  _ never  _ left their territory completely unguarded. One of them always stayed behind. If both of them were gone, did that mean they’d finally been ousted by a younger challenger?

Snarling, Small One did another sweep of the island. To her confusion, there were no fresh faces ruling the island. In fact, there weren’t  _ any  _ dragons around. A spiky black dragon-wyvern was slinking around, but that was as close as she managed to find. Small One didn’t understand. This was a prime territory for anything that liked heat. It was hard for challengers and predators to reach, teeming with prey, and rich in just about every mineral a fire-breather could dream of. If Bold One and her mate were gone, where were the hordes of squabbling usurpers?

All the while, Small One could still feel the tugging in her chest. It was faint, still, but it had become more insistent as the days went by. It was almost strong enough for her to discern a direction, now. Rumbling to herself, Small One left the volcanic island behind. She would have liked to stay and guard her friend’s territory, but she also didn’t want to stick around in case whatever had frightened off the dragons returned. Winging her way back into the air, Small One dove towards the coast and left the silent isle behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whose advice does Small One seek out? (1 = Bold One, 2 = Clever One)  
> Small One rolls a 1.
> 
> Small One’s stats have increased:
> 
> 163 years old—1174 years old  
> Strength: 12–14  
> Finesse: 12–14  
> Element: 7–9  
> Intelligence: 12—14  
> Luck: 10 = 10
> 
> Forgot to put the stats in the last chapter. That’s my bad.
> 
> I don’t have much to say about this one except that coming up with a three-word chapter title is harder than it seems. Ah well. I’ve made my bed, now I have to sleep in it.


	84. That Sinking Feeling

Upon reaching the mainland, Small One found herself flying laps up and down the coastline. Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t pick up the trail of either Bold One or her mate. The thought of paying Clever One a visit crossed her mind, but as soon as she turned to fly back inland, anxiety bubbled up in the pit of her stomach. She wasn’t entirely sure  _ why  _ she felt anxious, but she knew she didn’t want to leave the coast. Just another thing to blame on the pulling sensation.

The feeling had only grown stronger as Small One searched the coast. Now, she knew for sure where her heart wanted her to go—across the unfathomable sea. Small One did not want to do that. Not at all. So instead, she was flying up and down the water’s edge in the vague hopes that perhaps that would satisfy the pulling. As she flew, she dropped down to snatch up prey and lap at streams. The local lesser beasts seemed to be doing fine, though they predictably ran away whenever they saw Small One approaching.

Despite her best efforts, Small One couldn’t silence the pulling by flying around the coastline. After a few weeks, the tugging sensation was stronger than ever, stubbornly insisting that Small One cross the sea. It set her wings to ruffling and her legs to twitching, and to her annoyance, she found she couldn’t rest easy whenever she touched down to sleep. It was getting harder and harder to ignore it. Much as she didn’t want to, it seemed as though Small One might finally have to give in and fly across the sea, if only to silence the damnable pulling.

On one sleepless night, as Small One tried her best to ignore the feeling and rest up for her upcoming flight, the ground began to shake. It was subtle at first, so subtle that Small One thought she was imagining it. But the quakes steadily grew stronger, until the grains of sand that Small One lay in began to jump into the air. Standing up, Small One examined the jumping sand. The quakes had a rhythm to them, one that was slow and steady. They weren’t the result of the earth’s anger. They were much too weak for that, and too frequent. Small One took to the sky, a sneaking suspicion as to the shaking’s cause weighing on her mind.

Sure enough, as she rose into the cool night air and peered beyond the sand dunes, she could see a mountain dragon approaching. Each step was slow and deliberate, rattling the land itself. The approaching dragon was slow even by living mountain standards. Each step it took seemed to take it a huge amount of effort, as if it was too heavy for its own stocky legs. Unlike most of the living mountains Small One had seen in her life, this one sported a pale grey shell. Perhaps that was the cause of its lumbering gait. How long had it been walking to reach the seashore, and why would it come so far away from the rocky peaks living mountains liked to march through?

Curiosity piqued, Small One dove towards the mountain. She didn’t see the need to be cautious. The mountain had no reason to fear her, and so she had no reason to fear it. The mountain tilted its gaze up towards Small One as she hovered in front of its face and barked a greeting. For a moment, the dim, peaceful eyes regarded her with a blankness that wouldn’t have been out of place on a rock wyvern. But then, to Small One’s surprise, the mountain’s eyes lit up, and it rumbled a greeting of its own. It had been a long time since Small One had spoken to a mountain dragon, but she recognised the tone of familiarity. That didn’t make any sense, though. Small One had never stopped to speak with any of the rare few grey mountains she passed. As a matter of fact, the only mountain she had ever spoken to was Fearless One, and it had been a long time since Small One had last seen her.

Small One dove a little closer, breathing in the mountain’s scent. It was an ancient scent that smelled like moss and dust and rain on rocks. And it smelled so familiar that for a moment, Small One was a hatchling again, tiny and vulnerable and staring up at a creature so huge it had seemed impossible. It really was Fearless One. Her scales had changed colour for whatever reason, but her scent remained the same as it had always been. 

Fearless One, seeming to have decided that Small One hadn’t heard her, repeated her greeting even louder. This time, Small One answered in her best impression of a living mountain. Curiously, Small One took in Fearless One’s features. Now that she knew what she was looking for, she could see it. Rugged scales that nothing short of Twisted One could get through, an armoured belly pockmarked with tiny scars, and a thorny head where hatchlings had once slept and played. If she looked very closely, she could even see the rusted shafts of ancient spearheads buried in the thick shells.

Fearless One rumbled and growled for quite a while, Small One paying rapt attention to the thick, deep sounds. As per usual, Fearless One was in no rush to get her message across, and Small One found herself wondering how Fearless One managed to live her life so  _ slowly _ . Eventually, she stopped growling and stared at Small One expectantly. It took a bit of guessing and quite a lot of wracking her memories, but Small One managed to figure out that Fearless One was asking if Small One had heard the call. She hadn’t  _ heard  _ anything, but she had a fairly good idea of what Fearless One meant by ‘the call’.

After several failed attempts, Small One successfully explained the strange pulling sensation. Fearless One seemed to ponder that for moment, before taking a step to resume her journey. Small One cocked her head, landing on Fearless One’s back. Fearless One paid no attention to the extra weight, making her slow progress as if nothing had changed. Sitting among the tough scales brought Small One back to that ill-fated attack on the death-prey stronghold so long ago. Back then, she’d been so tiny she couldn’t get her front legs around Fearless One’s horn. Now, she was struggling to find a gap in the spines that was big enough to sit in comfortably.

As Fearless One walked, she rumbled to Small One, telling her all about the call. Apparently, Small One and Fearless One weren’t the only ones who’d felt it. Every dragon aside from hatchlings and their attentive parents had heard it, and most had already heeded it. Older dragons felt it the strongest, the ones who were nearing the ends of their lives. Small One supposed that must be what had happened to Bold One and her mate. They had flown across the sea to follow the strange pull. Perhaps she’d meet her there, and maybe Clever One would be there too.

When Fearless One reached the water’s edge, she stopped. The waves lapped up against her massive claws, but she didn’t seem inclined to walk any further. Small One didn’t blame her. She was so large and heavy that she would probably just sink right to the bottom of the sea if she tried to cross it. Small One leapt down and stood next to Fearless One, the pair sitting in silence and watching the moon’s reflection ripple on the surface.

After a while, Fearless One began to rumble. Small One settled herself in for another slow speech, but Fearless One didn’t actually have all that much to say. She simply had a single order for Small One: go now. Small One tilted her head with a questioning growl. Fearless One’s slow and methodical answer set cold dread in Small One’s stomach. As soon as Fearless One had finished speaking, Small One took off with a hasty farewell. She kept her eyes to the sky and tried to ignore the vast, all-devouring water that stretched out below her. There was no time to be afraid, not after what Fearless One had said.

Small One didn’t understand what exactly the living mountain meant, but she knew she couldn’t ignore it. How could anyone ignore such an ominous proclamation as Fearless One’s warning that a great destroyer lurked beyond the sea, just waiting for dragons to devour?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can Small One remember how to speak with Fearless One? (Intelligence = 14)  
> Small One rolls a 19 (required 6). Success.
> 
> Shorter one tonight, I’m afraid. No excuses, I just wasn’t in the mood at all.
> 
> This is gonna be the part of the story where my knowledge of the lore might get a bit hazy. As one might guess, we’re taking a trip to the New World, and that’s not a place I’ve personally explored yet. I know a fair bit, but not everything. Hence, some details might be slightly off. If so, just tell me and I’ll try to rectify the error as best I can.
> 
> Hopefully we won’t have too many screw-ups, though. I intend for this section to be more of a character-driven arc than a lore and action-based one. Well, I mean, they’re all character-driven, but this one especially so.


	85. New World Welcome

When the sun rose above the waves, Small One’s panic rose with it. She had long since flown beyond the view of the land. Endless water stretched out on all sides, carrying on into infinity. No matter how hard Small One squinted, she couldn’t see even the slightest imperfections on the horizon. With nothing to guide her, she found herself rapidly growing anxious. For all she knew, she was flying in circles above the vast, uncaring ocean. Only the pull gave her any hint as to where she was going. The darkness of the abyss beckoned, inviting her to sink into the depths. Despite the hints of exhaustion creeping into her wings, Small One beat at the air and climbed higher. The wind wasn’t lifting her, but she refused to fly so close to the water’s surface.

After another few days of flying, Small One’s chest was heaving and her wings were threatening to give out. Despite that, she refused to give in and fall into the cold water below. She forced her wings to push at the air, spiralling up as high as she could get. She spread her wings into a glide, keeping her eyes focused on the horizon. Squinting, she thought she could just barely make out a tiny peak, rising above the curve of the world. Was it really there, or was it just a particularly large wave? Small One clung to it, dipping into a shallow dive. She didn’t drop so low as to lose sight of the peak. If it truly was land, she didn’t want to let it out of her sight.

It was another gruelling day of flight before Small One finally touched down on the beach of the island she had spotted. She crashed hard and fast into the sand of this new land, too exhausted to come in for a proper landing. Strange creatures she had never seen before scuttled around her, sniffing and staring at her as if to check whether or not she was still alive. Small One growled, startling the green scavengers away. To her surprise, they didn’t go far, standing around her in a circle, hunched over with keen eyes watching her carefully. Small One supposed the creatures in this odd land had never had the chance to learn that she was something to be feared.

One of the scavengers scampered up to her and gave her tail an experimental nip. Roaring, Small One leapt to her feet and slashed at the little creature, sending it flying backwards in a spray of blood. It didn’t rise from where it had fallen, and its siblings regarded it with a curious fear. Small One reared back and screeched, sending the little green scavengers scattering at last. Now that they were gone, Small One let herself collapse back into the sand, finally giving her body the rest it had desired.

She must have drifted off, because when next she opened her eyes, the moon was high in the sky and the stars were twinkling. Small One found herself staring at the stars and trying to understand them. The stars had often guided her when she couldn’t quite remember which direction was which. But here, in this new place, the stars were different. Small One was fairly sure they were the same stars, but they seemed to fall in different patterns, twisted into new angles. How far had she flown, for the heavens themselves to change? Unfamiliar calls rang out in the night, pricking Small One’s ears. These were not the calls of beasts she knew. There must be new, strange beasts here for her to fight.

The thought of being in such an alien place unnerved Small One. She was used to understanding everything about the world around her. She had learned when a horned ape was vulnerable to attacks. She knew how to trick a two-horned wyvern into ramming into a rock and becoming stuck. She had even figured out the trick to revealing hidden clearskins, should she need to battle one. But here, these new beast were utterly foreign to her. How would she know where and when to strike if she didn’t know what she was fighting?

Staying on the beach would get her nowhere. She stood up, shaking the sand from her scales as best she could. A few wet clumps still clung to her belly, no matter how hard she tried to rub them off. She grumbled at that, spreading her wings. Her muscles protested, but Small One forced herself up into the sky. The cold night air made for poor climbing, and she found herself working to gain altitude. Once she was as high as she felt she could get without thermals to help her, she paused to hover and survey the land.

The beach she had landed on gradually gave way to a thick, dense forest. From the sheer size of the tree trunks and the density of the vegetation, Small One doubted Twisted One had ever come stomping through here. Some of those trees looked like they were older than Small One herself. Every now and then, a roar or a screech would rise up from the forest. None of the sounds were familiar to Small One, though she thought she heard something which sounded vaguely like a red or green flying wyvern.

Gliding over the forest, Small One spotted a dry, cracked wasteland beyond. She cocked her head at that. How could a desolate place like that exist right next to a cradle of life? The barren wasteland and the forest seemed to be coexisting, neither encroaching on the other. Yet another oddity of this new world. When Small One glided over to the wasteland, she found that it looked to be a natural sort of lifelessness. Like a desert. There probably were creatures that called this place home, unlike the unnatural ashfields that Twisted One had left in his wake.

As she flew around the rocky waste, Small One became acutely aware of an awful smell. For a moment, her wings threatened to lock up, because the smell brought unwanted memories rushing to her mind. Skinless flesh grotesquely stitched together and forced to move by death-prey meddling. Small One had to force her breathing to steady. There were no more living corpses. Twisted One had destroyed them all, and the death-prey had never made anything like them again. Still, the terrible scent of decay reminded Small One all too much of that night in the tower. It didn’t smell like a single rotting corpse. A single corpse she could handle. No, this smelled like a  _ million  _ corpses, left to rot together in the sun for weeks on end.

Morbid curiosity getting the better of her, Small One followed the stench. It lead her out of the waste and up into the air. As she neared the source of the smell, Small One was greeted by a sight unlike anything she had ever seen. Strange plantlike stones rose up from rocks, growing over one another in layers. No matter how she squinted and tilted her head, Small One couldn’t figure out whether they were plants or rocks. They looked like leafless trees, but they had rough surfaces like stones. The corpse-smell was leaking up from gaps in between the stone.

Small One dipped down, examining the plant-rocks. As far as she could tell, there were no rotting piles of corpses around. But when she peered down through a crack in the stone, she spotted a massive ribcage, and the stench only grew stronger. Reeling back, Small One climbed back up into the air. In the distance, she could see a rising plume of smoke that might be coming from a volcano. There was just so much she didn’t know about this new place, and so many new things to investigate and explore.

She didn’t much feel like fighting her way through the thick trees of the forest, and she had a feeling the wasteland would be unbearably sunny during the day. She didn’t want to fly as far as the volcano—even the thought of making the journey made her wings ache even more. So that left her with the land of the rock-plants, and the corpsepile which apparently lay beneath it. Despite the awful smell and the memories it was awakening, Small One found herself fascinated by the place beneath the highlands. In what world could a pile of corpses that big be allowed to exist? Surely scavengers would have claimed the free prey as soon as it fell.

Small One found that the pulling was satisfied now that she had flown across the sea like it wanted to. Though she knew she should start searching for other dragons and seeing if she could figure out what Fearless One had meant, her curiosity overwhelmed her. The other dragons could manage on their own for a while. Perhaps there were even a few down in the land where the bodies were festering.

With mind made up, Small One soared about, searching for a gap wide enough for her to fit through. When she spotted a gaping entrance to the dark, putrid land below, she dove straight for it and into the land of the dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does Small One make it across the sea without incident? (Luck = 10)  
> Small One rolls a 13 (required 10). Success.
> 
> Where does Small One go first? (Forest = 1, Recess = 2, Waste = 3, Highlands = 4, Vale = 5)  
> Small One rolls a 5.
> 
> Five way location roll, which is the most options I think we’ve ever had. I wasn’t too fussed about the result, though. I had someone for her to meet/something for her to find lined up for every possible result.
> 
> Went a little heavy on the scenery porn, heavier than I meant to. I can’t help it if the New World has some really pretty locations.


	86. Land of Death

Small One regretted her decision as soon as she dove into the hole. The smell of decay hit her like a physical thing. The air itself felt greasy and slimy against her scales, like it had picked up the putrid, glistening film that coated the rotting flesh in the vale. But she was here now, so she may as well look around. The cavern was massive, large enough for Small One to fly without too much risk of hitting the ceiling, but the air was still and flying took effort. She landed on the ground and instantly wished she hadn’t. The ground was soft and spongy in places, making unpleasant squishing sounds with each step Small One took. She didn’t want to look at her talons, much less smell them. They were probably coated in all sorts of filth already.

What little ground wasn’t covered in decaying flesh was instead decorated with skeletons. The bones of all sorts of creatures littered the ground, piling up on the top of one another or hanging suspended in the plants that were somehow growing amidst the death. Some of the skeletons were old and browned, marred by old tooth-marks left by scavengers. Others were newer, still with some almost-edible scraps of meat clinging to them. At one point, Small One wandered past an entire, almost pristine carcass. It was a wyvern of some sort, though not one she’d ever seen before. Its broad wings were thin and delicate, and also currently being pulled apart by a group of venomous-looking scavengers.

One of the black scavengers, a larger one with a pronounced hood, hissed at Small One as she walked past, baring its long fangs. She snorted, tossing her horns to warn it off. It could keep its carrion. Small One did not want to even  _ think  _ about eating something which had come into contact with the ground in this corpsepile. That would be a fine way to catch some sort of disease and join the bodies on the ground. The pack of scavengers carried on tearing into the carcass even as Small One left them behind, but a warbling howl set the lot of them scampering away briefly. Small One had no interest in that, though. So long as the thing which had howled didn’t come to  _ her _ , she didn’t care.

As she walked, Small One noticed a particular skeleton, one which was draped across the entire cavern. It was as much a part of the land as the stone itself, what with how much of the somehow-alive moulds and fungi were growing on it. She found herself staring up as the seemingly-endless vertebrae carried on, lined with mighty ribs and old ridges. Small One had never seen something so massive. If it was alive, it could easily have curled itself around Fearless One ten times over. After a while of following it, Small One managed to find the skull. The hollow, empty face was big enough that Small One could comfortably curl up inside its gaping maw. A pile of huge, needlelike fangs lay in a pile beneath the lower jaw, the remaining teeth giving the skull a gap-toothed grin.

Small One recognised the skeleton for what it was—a spearscale. But she hadn’t realised they could get so huge. She had seen a living spearscale a few times. The huge serpent spent most of her time clinging to a mountain peak, coiled around it and snatching prey whenever it happened to pass by. That spearscale was only about half the size of this gargantuan skeleton. How old must this beast have been, to get so big? More importantly, what had killed it? Had it died of natural causes, or had something even bigger managed to bring it down? Small One didn’t want to know. At the very least, the skeleton looked to be ancient. Hopefully whatever had killed it was long gone.

Still, Small One found herself straying away from the massive skeleton. As she went deeper down into the bowels of the cavern, she became aware of an odd haze in the air. It wasn’t the same sort of black corruption of a thousand years past. Instead it was a cloying, sticky substance that seemed to cling to her scales and try to work its way beneath her skin. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for down here. At first it had been curiosity that drove her, but now she had seen the place and established that it was just a hotbed of decay. But maybe there would be something worthwhile in the depths. And then she could leave.

Something stirred. Small One froze, ears pricked and eyes darting about. Something had moved, but the motion had been too slight for her to get a good look at it. A wet, slimy sound, like bloody flesh being dragged across the ground rang out. Small One snapped her gaze towards the noise. A huge pile of carcasses, all stripped of their skin, lay nearby. As she stared, one of the corpses shifted subtly. Small One narrowed her eyes, her pulse quickening. The slimy carcass suddenly tumbled down the pile, a malformed head emerging from beneath.

Small One’s legs locked up. She hissed, willing herself to move, but she suddenly felt so tiny and helpless. The creature which climbed out of the carcasses looked distressingly similar to the horrific thing which had haunted her nights for years. It had two jaws, one looking relatively normal but the other hanging slack with crooked, yellow teeth lining the jawbones. Two patches on the sides of its head glowed a sickly yellow as it turned towards Small One and spread its rotting, tattered wings with a lilting cry.

Small One’s vision narrowed to a point, focused entirely on the slackjawed beast before her. This was not possible. There couldn’t be a living corpse. They were  _ gone _ . Twisted One had destroyed them all and burned their remains. But here it was, warbling and howling for her blood. It stepped closer towards her, still with its grotesque wings splayed out. A strangled growl managed to work its way from Small One’s throat. She remembered how these things worked. If she could just rip its head off, it would be dead like it should have been from the start. Now if only her legs would remember how to move.

The corpse shrieked again, and Small One noticed something she hadn’t before. It was holding one of its legs rather awkwardly, raised slightly above the ground. Like it was nursing a wound from a fight. But Small One couldn’t remember the corpses ever showing pain at an injury before. That was the entire problem with them; they just kept going and going unless they were literally torn apart. Now that she had spotted the injury, Small One noticed other oddities too. It wasn’t wearing the ragged hardskin shell on its back or face, and there were no mismatched bones visible through its skin. All of its legs were unbroken too, and its wings looked more complex than just assorted membranes roughly bound together.

In fact, the more Small One looked, the less sure she was that this was actually a living corpse. Parts of it were coated in rotting flesh, but there were pale green scales peeking through in places. Like it was just a normal dragon that had covered itself in carcasses for some reason. Small One snorted, prompting the deathcloak to stiffen a little and warble again. She’d gotten worked up for nothing. Still, this was a dragon as odd as White One. Why would any self-respecting dragon coat itself in the slimy, rancid, foul-smelling flesh of wyverns and beasts?

Though it was putting on quite the aggressive show, the deathcloak had yet to attack Small One. That didn’t surprise her. She was quite a bit bigger than it, and she doubted it had ever seen a glitterscale before. Though it was an unfamiliar creature, Small One understood the universal gestures for ‘this is my territory, leave now’. Small One tossed her head and carefully strafed around the deathcloak, making her way towards an upwards slope. She wasn’t sure where it lead, but anywhere was better than down here. The deathcloak kept its wary gaze on her the whole time. It could keep its foul pit. She was much happier in the open sky where she belonged. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder what had attacked the deathcloak. What foolish creature would descend so deep and then pick a fight with the dragon in charge?

As she clambered up the slope, out of the cloying fog and into the slightly clearer air, something sparkling on the ground caught her eye. She lowered her head to examine the little patches of brightness. In such a dark, dismal place, the little glint stood out. She was rather disappointed by what she found. The sparkling objects on the ground were no more than fallen black scales. Her own, probably. They must have dropped off while she was wandering around the land of the dead. Still, there was something odd about the whole thing. As she nodded at the scales and poked them with her snout, it suddenly hit her.

These weren’t  _ her  _ glittery black scales. She had come down a different way.

She took off up the slope, ignoring the disgusting feeling of slimy flesh between her talons and the occasional stabbing into her hide from a particularly sharp bone. Glittering black scales that weren’t hers. A dream come true. She just had to chase it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does Small One get past her fear? (Intelligence = 14)  
> Small One rolls a 17 (required 6). Success.
> 
> Does Small One avoid being attacked by the Vaal Hazak? (Luck = 10)  
> Small One rolls a 14 (required 10). Success.
> 
> Does Small One notice the problem? (Intelligence = 14)  
> Small One rolls a 19 (required 6). Success.
> 
> So I missed a few days (a week, actually). There’s a reason for that. It’s exam season here, and much as I like to write about fictional reptiles, I do need to occasionally pay attention to the real-life ones too (for those who don’t know, I’m studying to be a herpetologist. That is, someone who studies reptiles and amphibians for a living). Most of my studying takes the form of reading academic journals and such, which is extremely boring and draining and makes me want to cry at the mere sight of words on a screen.
> 
> Normally, my evenings are spent writing this story. But when faced with the options of playing games and hanging out with friends or staring at more words on a screen for a few more hours… Well, I hope no one can blame me for choosing to spend time with friends. The exams are still happening, so I can’t guarantee that we’ll keep the schedule up as usual, but I’ll try. Just don’t be surprised if we have more slip-ups.
> 
> Also I watched the Iceborne stream and I’m… not that impressed. C’mon, you’re telling me they seriously couldn’t do better than literally just Duramboros with different horns and fur, another Plesioth clone (because that’s what everyone wanted, right?), and a dragon which could only charitably be described as bootleg Alatreon? I hope they pull out something better at E3 because this isn’t looking great so far.


	87. Those Growing Spines

Small One practically threw herself into the sky, inhaling the fresh scent of clear air. She couldn’t have spent more than a few hours in the corpse pile, but it felt like it had been weeks. Still, there was no time to spend enjoying the sights. She rocketed up into the sky, wheeling around high above the plant-rocks. There could be another glitterscale here, as impossible as it seemed. There was the chance that she was mistaken, that she was chasing her own scales, but she knew she hadn’t entered the pit that way.

Small One only gave a cursory glance to the plant-rocks and all their strange life. Too confined for a glitterscale, and much too close to the corpse pit for her liking. She doubted she’d find any glitterscales in the forest either, but if Fearless One was right and all the dragons had crossed the sea, then Clever One might be hiding within the maze of trees. Alternatively, Small One could investigate the plume of smoke and see if it really was a volcano. If it was, then it was almost guaranteed that she’d find Bold One and her mate there. Their help would be appreciated, if they were here.

Quite against her will, Small One found herself recalling a distant time, when she had dragged her two friends across the world to the point where they got sick of her and left. Somehow, she didn’t think they’d be eager to do it again. Best to go it alone for now, and to that end she wheeled around to face the wasteland. It was wide and open and lacked the acrid stench of death. If nothing else, she could do some hunting there. With mind made up, she tilted her wings and caught a thermal, gliding towards the rocky fields.

As she soared, Small One had to swerve to avoid the massive tree that jutted proudly into the air. It was a true giant of a tree, rivalling even the behemoth that grew in Gentle One’s rainforest. How old was it, Small One wondered? What had the world been like, in that impossibly ancient time when the tree was just a seedling? A red flying wyvern perched on one of the thick branches, the sturdy limb easily carrying his weight. He kept a wary eye on Small One as she flew overhead, clearly having the presence of mind to recognise when he was in the presence of something greater than himself.

In time, Small One found herself gliding across barren, rocky wastes. The few trees that clung to life were dry and withered, and the only source of water Small One could see was a shallow, muddy pond. She swooped in for a landing, kicking up dust with her wings. The sun rebounded unpleasantly off of the rocks, warming her scales and stinging at her eyes. At first glance, the rocky wastes seemed to be completely desolate. But slowly, Small One started noticing more and more signs of life. Splashes in the mud from swimming things. The shadows of feathered things and small fliers passing overhead. A distant quaking as some beast or another tunnelled beneath the earth.

And yet she did not see a single glitterscale, or anything that looked like one. Sniffing at the air, with the heat burning her nostrils and the dust causing her to snort, there was nothing that smelled like a glitterscale either. Huffing, Small One trotted towards the muddy pool. Already, the sun was working its way beneath her scales and trying to sap her energy. Before she flew off to resume the search, she wanted to quench her thirst.

The pool was shallow and murky and smelled stagnant, but it was the only water around and so Small One had to put up with it. There were some truly gigantic swimming things in the pond. Small One could only imagine Bold One’s reaction to them. Had Bold One been here already? Or had she and her mate fallen into the sea before they ever reached the land beyond the waves? Dunking her head into the gritty, earthy water, Small One decided to believe that they were strong enough to cross. It was easier than worrying about it.

As Small One lifted her dripping snout from the pool, trying to decide what sort of prey to hunt for, a high-pitched sound caught her attention. It was faint, distant, but it was a sound she recognised. A frantic blend of screech and whimper, loud enough to pierce straight into Small One’s heart. The sound of a firemane in distress.

At once, Small One was in the air. The voice was that of an adult firemane. Adult firemanes were proud and haughty. They almost never screeched like that, even when they were at death’s talons. Though she had never figured out how to identify firemanes by voice, there was a chance it was Bold One, and Small One was not about to risk letting her friend die. She soared towards the source of the sound, briefly stalling in the air when a guttural roar ripped through the air. That was a sound Small One didn’t recognise. The firemane shrieked again, and Small One tucked her wings into a glide. Whatever had made that sound, she could probably kill it if she needed to.

Small One’s flight carried her to a dusty hill, with dry and cracked pillars of stone casting long shadows on the ground. It took her a moment to spot the firemane. It took her another moment to recognise it as a firemane. The bright red scales and mane informed Small One that it had been a male (and at the same time, assured her that she no longer had a reason to care about it), but its corpse was mangled beyond all belief. Scales, patches of hide, and clumps of mane were scattered all around. It reminded Small One of the way death-prey liked to pull apart the carcasses of their kills.

Still, despite the gruesome scene, Small One spared the dead firemane only a glance. Her attention was fully consumed by the odd dragon standing over the body and eagerly tearing into the carcass. It was brown and strong-looking, with long quills growing all over its body and broad wings folded over its back. It had a pair of horns that reminded Small One of the gold-maned horned apes of her homeland, but she couldn’t tell what colour they were supposed to be because they were soaked in the firemane’s blood.

Small One couldn’t remember the last time she had seen a dragon eating another dragon. Battling over territory, yes, but not eating each other. It had seemed to go as an unspoken agreement after the war—their numbers were thin enough already, and there was plenty of easier-to-catch prey. Perhaps this strange spiky dragon was too young to remember? Or maybe it simply didn’t care. Small One dipped a little closer to the quillbacked dragon to try and get a closer look at it, but that turned out to be a mistake. As her shadow fell upon the feasting dragon, it lifted its head to look at her, blood dribbling from between its teeth.

Small One churred a soft greeting. The quillback simply stared at her. Small One didn’t like the hungry gleam in its eyes as it slowly turned itself around. It was oddly bulky for a dragon, with strong arms and a thick neck. Now that she was a bit closer to it, Small One could catch the faintest hint of its scent. It smelled like blood, soot, and grit, and rather oddly, lacked both the musk of a male and the soft scent of a female. Everything about the dragon-eating dragon was setting Small One on edge, but she figured it was best to at least try to be friendly. She tried crooning, wondering if perhaps it hadn’t understood her first greeting, but all of a sudden the quillback lunged at her with talons outstretched.

The attack came so fast Small One didn’t even have a chance to try and dodge. The talons slammed into her chest with the force of a falling boulder, knocking the breath from her lungs and causing her wings to seize up. She plummeted to the ground, landing roughly in the dust. Before she could even stand up, the quillback was on top of her again, brutally smashing its talons onto her horns and ramming its horns into hers, so hard that some of its quills snapped off and lodged themselves into Small One’s snout. Her world exploded in pain, a sharp stabbing coming directly from her horns and into her brain. Through the muddled thoughts, Small One felt the wellspring of power surging to life in her horns.

Sparks lanced from her horns into the quillback’s arm, causing it to yelp and pull its talon away. Small One used the opportunity to stand up and leap into a clumsy hover, tossing her head to strike the quillback with a bolt of lightning. The electricity struck the quillback right in the horns, causing it to flinch back briefly. It wasn’t deterred, however, leaping up at Small One yet again. This time, she managed to beat her wings and avoid the strike. At this point, Small One just wanted to flee. The quillback could have its dusty territory. But the quillback wasn’t having it. It snarled, spinning on its heels and suddenly taking flight to charge after Small One.

Small One felt the chill building up in her throat, and she spat a volley of frigid icicles straight at the approaching quillback. The frozen spears shattered uselessly on its horns, the quillback carrying on as though it hadn’t been attacked at all. Small One rolled to one side, lashing out with her talons to try and catch the quillback as it went past. Her talons sliced through the soft white quills on its head (had those always been there?), but it didn’t seem to care. It turned and dove straight towards Small One, ramming straight into her side with its thick horns.

The impact snapped something in Small One’s chest, her torso suddenly coming alight with burning agony. Carried by its momentum, the quillback pushed Small One’s straight into the ground, landing with her pinned beneath its bulk. Small One hissed, thrashing and flailing despite the stabbing pain coming from her clearly-broken ribs. The brown dragon held its grip easily, leering over her with blood staining its face and mane of quills. Black energy surged into Small One’s claws, but she couldn’t get her talons free to slash at the dragon that held her down.

The quillback suddenly clamped its powerful jaws on Small One’s neck, pulling and tearing with its sharp teeth. Small One shrieked, thrashing her head as much as she could while being grateful that the dragon-eater had misjudged where her throat was—it had grabbed her near the base of her neck. It had clearly never hunted anything like her before. Using her limited reach, Small One skimmed the back of the quillback’s head with a wildly spat fireball, but it didn’t notice. With a vicious tug, it ripped a patch of hide and scales free from Small One’s neck. Small One screeched at the top of her voice even as the quillback tried again to find her thirst and tear it out.

Just as it began to pull on its next spot, something struck the quillback right between the horns, something bright and buzzing with electricity. It yelped, releasing Small One from its jaws and turning its head to find its attacker. From somewhere nearby, Small One heard an achingly familiar roar that made her heart skip a beat. She took advantage of the quillback’s momentary distraction to give a particularly fierce kick, loosening its grip just enough to get out from beneath its grasp. As soon as she was on her feet again, Small One winced, swaying on her feet. The quillback’s bite was pouring blood at an alarming rate.

The quillback roared in its deep, guttural voice, but the roar turned into a whimper as yet another bolt of lightning struck it in the face. Mustering her remaining strength, Small One spat a glob of fire into the back of its head. The quillback shook its head, rattling the mane of black spikes it now sported. It glanced between Small One and her savior, and evidently deciding it wasn’t worth it, took off into the clear sky. Small One huffed as it flew off, then instantly regretted it when her ribs complained bitterly.

Ignoring the brutal pain and lightheadedness, Small One turned to the one who had helped her, swallowing her pride to croon her thanks. The matching sound she received was one she hadn’t heard in centuries. The black shape in the haze was unmistakable, crowned as it was with a set of proud, jagged horns. That alone would have been cause for celebration, but Small One didn’t miss one other detail. The other dragon’s chest was marked with a huge, messy scar, faded grey scales outlining an ancient bite wound. There was only one dragon in all of history who had a scar like that.

Furious One.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where does Small One check next? (Recess = 1, Waste = 2, Forest = 3)  
> Small One rolls a 2.
> 
> Can Small One drive off the Nergigante? (Strength = 14)  
> Small One rolls a 3 (required 6). Failure.
> 
> Is there someone around to help? (Luck = 10)  
> Small One rolls a 12 (required 10). Success.
> 
> Aaaand we’re back. Finally. Exams are done, assignments are submitted, and I finally pulled myself back out of the hole of laziness that had consumed me for weeks. We can now return to having the daily story actually update daily. Fascinating concept, I know. And now you should see why I try to avoid taking breaks when I can...


End file.
